Yeah, love
Love, love, love
Love, hmm
You tell me it′s a cold world you ain't never lie
This for my n- worldwide, yes i′m back home
And pay attention to my shit and keep your head high
And listen up cause this ain't just another rap song
My n- 17 never had his palms out
He grabbed some work from out the shoebox in his bedroom
I really hate to keep this shit inside my mom house
Before she sleep I know she think I'ma be dead soon
Consumed by the perfume of the street life, engulfed by the weed smoke in the O.E
I often think it ain′t gon′ never be no peace right
Cause if it ain't another n- it′s the police
He hit the door and put the dope inside his backpack
And walk across the boulevard to where his aunt stay
His mama stressing he been helping with the bills now
But he been slipping, serving n-s in the broad day
He heard some sirens from behind him and his heart stopped
Five cops on the block, yelling
