[Chrous: Namman Norris and Senim Silla] x 4 I'm' looking out my rear window I bare witness to the street life Staring through the gla** I watch my life past (uhh?) [Verse 2: Naaman Norris] They say we gotta look out for the art Personal agendas tear the family apart But still I'm inclined to cover mine One body, one mind One people, one kind But the gun's blind, who's dying Is it time yet I'm looking out, pondering the purpose of this life These quiet inner thought make me nervous, am I right Am I wrong, in the act of service put in work Learn the ropes, made my bed with vermin, still I hope The present situation change course and face up My only resolution as of yet is the paystub I face up, staring at brick walls, they bear the mark Every crack represent a broken heart These broken arrows fill my quiver I take another sip and shiver, spiting my liver Been fighting eons Surrounded by a city full of peons Choking on the stench of used up air and has-beens Smothered in the past tense Fashion a broadsword of “don't care's” and “wasn't there's” Remaining untouched Looking for reasons to release, feel my blood rush I sense the swing of enemies and still I won't duck Tired of running, always wanting more Tearing open sores that time can't heal, I'm uprising The bind no longer ties the spreading of my eyelids No longer along for the ride, I'm the pilot [Chrous: Namman Norris and Senim Silla] x 4 I'm' looking out my rear window I bare witness to the street life Staring through the gla** I watch my life past (uhh?) [Verse 2: Senim Silla] Is life worth living I ponder a minute Will I burn for sinning can I trust religion Am I missing big pictures by getting high Close my eyes and envision heaven If I should die I hope my rest is pleasant Think of the time I spend obsessing Over small things d**h resolves all things Is that pessimistic is there a lesson in it When will the answers come And can I handle them How does one make proper preparation For his final destination When will the time come you're always too young Living breath to breath the concept of d**h In depth like 6 feet embryo to 60 Am I dreaming won't someone pinch me Slap me punch me kick me Dammit I'm awake already I'm 25 I made it this far barely Similar kats make it this far rarely mental intact I sit back escaping with these trees And gentlemen jack kats that can't see The reason ain't been to the yack Nor tried on my shoes I was left with Few options so now it's second nature to Run when the cops come Constantly dreaming that I'm still Locked up or getting shot up Wake up in relief tears flowing Down my cheeks I need doctor To see product of the streets [Chrous: Namman Norris and Senim Silla] x 6