A lot of people dying in my city Crime rate it’s going up, it ain’t looking pretty Some haters hit me up on the gram say they gon kill me They gonna run in some problems, just know it’s with me For when the sh*t gets sticky Just know I got a choppa that holds 50 I ain’t killa but don’t temp me See them ni**as and start squeezing until it’s empty For when the sh*t gets sticky Just know I got a choppa that holds 50 I ain’t killa but don’t temp me See them ni**as and start squeezing until it’s empty Growing up in the slums in these cold streets Public housing rats and roaches plus there’s no heat Cold nights, I was wrapped up in some cold sheets I slept in class cause I never got no sleep Mama had pay the bills, went short on groceries Days I had to force myself to sleep cause I was hungry Real talk we never really had no money Mama came thru the next day to feed us something Now I’m trapping turning nothing into something ni**as dying in my city, only gun play Shot a couple ni**as red light on a one way There’s a war outside in the 6, we don’t run games ni**as kill you on your block broad day, on the front page Cow boy city, op block look like a gun range Civilians praying that the killing gon end one day But this been happening for years, ain’t nun change Cause it’s real when you living in the field You either make it, go to jail, or you get killed The good die young so my youngins pack the steel Come to my city, ni**as getting shot for real But now ni**as tryna to rap and get a deal But they be tryna kill the rappers getting deals A lot of people dying in my city Crime rate its going up it ain’t looking pretty Some haters hit me up on the gram say they gon kill me They gon run in some problems, just know it’s with me For when the sh*t gets sticky Just know I got a choppa that holds 50 I ain’t killa but don’t temp me See them ni**as and start squeezing until it’s empty