A lot of my Eastside partners are dyin' fast    And it ain't for natural causes, fool, they catchin' a blast   Tim, Yogi, Bruce and James   pick up the newspaper, fool, and it's all familiar names   Brothas i grew up with and do up with   Partners killin' partners, man, that's the cold shit   Gots me spooked to hang with the fellas   Cause you never know when the nextman's gettin' jealous   Cause I've seen some cold shit:   Brothas gettin' killed over the words of a bitch   Now tell me what that be like, player   But in the Oaktown ain't no rules, nigga   Everything's fair, hah!   And the main fact is a bullet   He's got his finger on the trigga   And he'll damn sure pull it   This defines ghetto mentality, right?   But it all so got a player runnin' for his life...      I walked to my homie's funeral last week   Tears rolled down his mama's cheek   And it made me think:    I never tripped when i was gunnin' and funnin'   But the things i did in past got me duckin', dodgin, runnin'   And it ain't that i'm scared but if a fool starts to blastin'   It ain't like I'm gonna stand there   See, moms allready lost my brotha   So I keeps my vest on when I roam in the gutter   But we droppin' like flies   What's goin' on the Eastside can't be denied   Remember when we used to box?   But nowadays we grabbin' A.K.'s   And be bringin' down the whole block   And little kids gettin' gaught up in the crossfire   Before he reaches a teens he's expired   12 years old and it's a damn shame   Layin' in the middle of the nearest lane, hah!   And it brings tears to my eyes, damn!   We got'em runnin' for their lifes...      Another mother's tears on the cheeks   Seems like another brotha got beated by these Eastside streets   He fell victim to a drive-by    And I find myself askin' why?   Was he part of the game claimin' red or blue?   Or was is just a time to him to pay for things he do   He probably killed another brotha   Don't act like you're shocked   Cause that's the way of the gutter   He was the baller callin' major shots   He slipped one too many times so he got dropped   And ain't nobody untouchable, fool   Before the phony starts everything's cool, hah!   But once it's on it's goin' down   Drive-by's sparkin' up the whole fuckin' town   Deathtomb 17 over the weekend   Strapped with my vest in the funerals of my friends   Cause they droppin' like flies   Stayin' alive you can't do shit but try   Cause the brothas slippin' to the left   And the name of the game ain't shit but death   Because the way we live, hah!   They got us runnin' for our lives...