*Talking In The Background*    Uh  The streets of my city be gritty  Young niggaz pack plenty, and ain't never show no pity  Many die on streets of concrete, blasted from the heat  From under the seat, niggaz just tryin' to make ends meat  Trying to eat, day to day livin' with no religion  Luxury cars, and this money got my full attention  School teachers and the preachers don't know what to teach us  They don't get a second look without them ghetto features  Created so the non pigmentated rated  Pornographic caught they children learn the words and say it  Save the monsters, but don't nobody know the lord  Status depends on the baddest shit you can afford  And look at me I'm in the middle of the confusion  Crime in my blood and I need a transfusion  Take it how you wanna take it  I gotta twist and break it  Make it shine to distinguish from the ones who fake it  and if it comes out raw, and uncontrollable  Money's foldable, fuck a hip-hop quoteable  Nobody felt what I was feeling when I wrote this shit  Broke this shit, but that ain't new so I can cope with this  Hope it get better for those who don't get a chance  To advance, and dig the shit I be saying  You know what might make what I say a little clearer  If mothafuckers judge the one they see in the mirror    *Talking till the End*