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Uhh, yeah |
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Another one of those |
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This is for my nigga Q |
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Down to earth joints |
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Rest in peace, baby |
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You're not for me dawg |
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That's how many that don't know |
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They knew I could do it |
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They don't know, who we be |
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(This goes out to my nigga Q) |
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(Rest in peace, baby) |
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They don't know, who we be |
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(They still ain't ready) |
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What they don't know is |
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The bullshit, the drama, the guns, the armour |
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The city, the farmer, the babies, the mama |
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The projects, the drugs, the children, the thugs |
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The tears, the hugs, the love, the slugs |
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The funerals, the wakes, the churches, the coffins |
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The heartbroken mothers, it happens, too often |
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The problems, the things, we use, to solve 'em |
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Yonkers, the Bronx, Brooklyn, Harlem |
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The hurt, the pain, the dirt, the rain |
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The jerk, the fame, the work, the game |
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The friends, the foes, the Benz, the hoes |
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The studios, the shows, comes and it goes |
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The jealousy, the envy, the phony, the friendly |
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The one that gave 'em the slugs, the one that put 'em in me |
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The snakes, the grass, too long, to see |
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The lawnmower, sittin', right next, to the tree |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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What we seein' is |
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The streets, the cops, the system, harrassment |
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The options, get shot, go to jail, or getcha ass kicked |
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The lawyers, the part, they are, of the puzzle |
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The release, the warning, "Try not, to get in trouble" |
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The snitches, the odds, probation, parole |
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The new charge, the bail, the warrant, the hole |
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The cell, the bus, the ride, up north |
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The greens, the boots, the yard, the hearts |
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The fightin', the stabbin', the pullin', the grabbin' |
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The riot squad with the captain, nobody knows what happened |
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The two years in a box, revenge, the plots |
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The twenty-three hours that's locked, the one hour that's not |
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The silence, the dark, the mind, so fragile |
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The wish, that the streets, would have took you, when they had you |
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The days, the months, the years, dispair |
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One night on my knees, here it comes, the prayer |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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This here is all about |
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My wife, my kids, the life that I live |
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Through the night, I was his, it was right, but I did |
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My ups, and downs, my slips, my falls |
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My trials and tribulations, my heart, my balls |
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My mother, my father, I love 'em, I hate 'em |
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Wish God, I didn't have 'em, but I'm glad that He made 'em |
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The roaches, the rats, the strays, the cats |
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The guns, knives and bats, everytime we scrap |
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The hustlin', the dealin', the robbin', the stealin' |
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The shit, hit the ceilin', little boy, with no feelin's |
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The frustration, rage, trapped inside a cage |
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Got beatin's 'til the age, I carried a twelve gauge |
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Somebody stop me, somebody come and get me |
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Little did I know, that the Lord was ridin' with me |
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The dark, the light, my heart, the fight |
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The wrong, the right, it's gone, aight? |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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They don't know, who we be |
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Man listen |
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(They don't know, who we be) |
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These motherfuckers don't know, who we are |
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They don't know |
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(They don't know, who we be) |
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They couldn't possibly fuckin' know dawg |
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That's from the heart |
