Alright,
Nobody Wants It More Than Me,
Im Writing Stories Bout My Life Bumping Gangster Music And Smoking Weed,
This Ghetto Poetry This Is What Its Suppose To Be,
Im Certified Like I Got A Stamp From A Notary,
Im Getting Crazy Ass Fan Mail,
But No Doubt Up In His Pad Doing Crack Sales,
Telling Me That His Mom Is Never Home,
I Dont Think She Really Cares That Im Drinking Liquor And Getting Blown,
Im Getting High Just Listening To Your Rhymes Sick,
And I Replied With, Homie Take Your Time With,
Life' Cuz I Was In Your Shoes Once,
Chillin With The Crew That Was Making Them Other Foos Run,
There Was Alot Of Gangs We Had To Choose One,
The Cops Raided Us Like Every Other Two Months,
Take My Advice That Aint The Life You Wanna Live,
Make Your Mother Proud Graduate And Make It Big.
I Can Hear The Streets They Talking,
But You Dont Know The Shoes Ive Walked In,
Only Thing i Hear Is Money Calling,
Dont Crucify Me, Crucify Me.
I Was Preforming In Chicago,
I Met This Girl We Was Chilling Sippin From The Bottle,
Telling Me Stories Bout A Young Cousin Pablo,
Before He Passed Away He Bumped My Music In His Montecarlo,
Was My Biggest Fan Used To Play Me Everyday,
Wasn't A Plan To Take A Trip To LA,
Wanted To See Me Rap In Front Of A Crowd,
Told His Friend I Was Raw As Fuck Repping The Brown,
To Believe The Next Letter This Young Girl Wrote,
Your Songs Kept Me Alive Last Night I Almost Overdosed,
Going Thru The Pressure She Might Be Pregnant,
And Not To Mention Her Boyfriend Didn't Reply To The Message,
I Wrote Back And Said Baby You Wrong,
You Got A Future And You Shouldn't Be A Part Of This Song,
I Know Its Hard To Be Positive When You Feeling Hopeless,
Cant Give Up And Hope That Heavens Door Is Open.
I Can Hear The Streets They Talking,
But You Dont Know The Shoes Ive Walked In,
Only Thing i Hear Is Money Calling,
Dont Crucify Me, Crucify Me.