[Chorus]
(Project Pat)
Make a n***a like me run into yo ass

[Skinny Pimp: verse 1]
My n***a Cello and Lil Fred dead from the bullet wound
The media tryna say it's gang related
Mane, them bitches tradin
My n***a never gangbang a brother for a color
A murder charge with no heart
They even killed his mother
They burnt up his '93 Cherokee
No fingerprints, no evidence
The n***a that killed him was from the same hood
They grew up with each other but still no love
News 3 always changing shit, that's why I hate them hoes
Always tryna make a n***a look bad
Change my style, kiss my ass
The shit goes own like everyday
That's why a n***a like me gotta say
Shit that be on my fuckin mind
Y'all know the fuckin time
Players that roll clean
They make a n***a scope 'em
N***as that know 'em
They be the one to smoke 'em
What's up to my n***a Chill Will?
Rest in peace player
Family killin family over petty for real
Still
We come together, slow up on this black on black
You better hear me though, bitch
I'm run into yo ass
[Chorus]
(Project Pat)
Make a n***a like me run into yo ass

[Lady Bee: verse 2]
I grew up as a stepchild
My momma was dead, my daddy once said
That I wouldn't be shit
(You ain't gonna be shit when you grow up)
So now I gotta struggle at the age 17
You gotta save early, when you old
Then you count yo green
I was just a virgin, back then splurgin
On my body, n***as loved shape
But they couldn't bust a grape
Almost everyday I think about this shit when I was young
How this world done changed
Dope, money, weed runnin thangs (Ain't it mane)
Husbands shootin they wife
Thinkin she dead, so he take his life
Suicidal, unforgiven sins, now you Hell type
Funerals real thick, neighborhoods kinda sick
Families havin a fit, news reporters eat the cat
They don't understand that we takin shit to damn far
They can't recognize until they move up on our boulevard
No good, Hollywood
Big dope dealers never last
Tryna front a youngin sellout snitchin on yo monkey ass
[Chorus]
(Project Pat)
Make a n***a like me run into yo ass

[Skinny Pimp: verse 3]
N***as in the morgue
Cause another n***a took 'em, scoped 'em out
Jealousness, brokeness
Make some bustas wanna click
Gankin all your road dawgs
Me? I'm rollin shawty dawg
Splurgin at the fuckin mall cause I stay about my hog

[Lady Bee: verse 4]
One life to live, too short
But still, we just kill each other
40% black in jail, 40% black in Hell
Take it from an older person
The streets is just a death trap
All up in the club claimin hoods knowin yo ass ain't strap

[Skinny Pimp: verse 5]
Livin as a convict, equal to a faggot
If yo shank ain't sharp
Pick up your soap and turn yo ass in
What's up to the guards down at 201
They straight with me, corporately
Ridin them fake ass bustas claimin killer G
[Lady Bee: verse 6]
Down in my hood everybody smilin ain't yo friend
They want what you got
Plus the knife, when it hits yo back
You's damn fool if you scopin out my illegal stash
Imma have my brother Gino folks lookin for yo ass

[Chorus]
(Project Pat)
Make a n***a like me run into yo ass