| [Z-Ro] Of course | |
| I'm thankful for another day, my | |
| Lord I can't lie | |
| But everytime | |
| I wake up, seem like one of my people gotta die | |
| Anthrax poisoning, | |
| Hussein and them blew up the | |
| Trade Center | |
| Summer, Fall, | |
| Spring, Winter, people in the projects getting thinner | |
| Barely enough government cheese, left to feed the rats | |
| But we gotta get it how we live, and how we live is selling crack | |
| How we live is kicking doors, how we live is pimping whores | |
| How we live is what we do, so we don't live like this no more | |
| How we live is wrapping em up, sipping on my weight to receive | |
| An overloaded | |
| Houston Texas, niggaz make they own bleed | |
| Every night another murder scene, that could of been prevented | |
| But the truth is we most def, and the last soul tormented | |
| Every now and then | |
| I duck my head, up in the sunday service | |
| That's the only place where 5-0, won't burst us bust us | |
| Nigga they don't love us, they wanna relocate us to the | |
| Penn We wanna do right, but all we see is sin [Hook] | |
| In this land, we need you | |
| Jesus Lord have mercy, we need shelter in the time of storm | |
| Uh-huh, well, well, well [Z-Ro] | |
| Yeah, Rosta fall right help me, help me | |
| All the young picking them, living in a rush just to get wealthy (wealthy) | |
| And in the ghetto, we struggle or we hustle til we bubble | |
| On top, eliminating competition when we buck shot | |
| Don't press that new, but a new clear shot | |
| Fire, fire, fire, fire (fire) | |
| Too many sickness and disease, under attack from overseas | |
| Mighty job me and for | |
| God, please come save the day | |
| If I should die before | |
| I wake, me leave a blessing for the people today | |
| Mighty job me and for | |
| God upon you, take this pain away [Hook x2] [Z-Ro] | |
| Now I lay me, down to sleep | |
| I pray the | |
| Lord keep my body, as my enemies creep | |
| Don't wanna be another statistic, living through c.d.'s | |
| Either the graveyard or max. security, prison you'll see | |
| G Look at the homie's little girl, she ain't nothing but sixteen | |
| Trying to support three kids, so she stay coming out her jeans | |
| Getting pimped, by somebody that still live with they mama | |
| But that's the only way she know, to get away from all the drama | |
| As for books, the mind is a terrible thing to waste | |
| As for crooks, the line is a terrible thing to taste | |
| Ask them niggaz that don bit the bullet, but they still here | |
| My nigga we ain't seen | |
| God befo', but we still fear | |
| I asked him for a plexing, and he sent me | |
| Eugene Now | |
| I got two cars, a crib and everyday | |
| I dress clean | |
| But it ain't no love, they wanna put a nigga in the | |
| Penn I wanna do right, but all | |
| I see is sin [Hook x2] |
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