No matter how hard it gets, keep your chest out, keep your head up and handle it.

Born through hard times, Ghetto child of mine. I wonder if you have to suffer for your father's crimes.

Hate to sound sleazy, but tease me, I don't want it if it's that easy

It was hell, hugging my Mama from a jail cell.

Heart of a solider with a brain to teach your whole nation.

Gangsta Rap is dead. I've moved on. And the raps that I'm rappin to my community shouldn't be filled with rage? They shouldn't be filled with same attrocities that they gave me? The media they don't talk about it, so in my raps I have to talk about it, and it seems foreign because there's no one else talking about it.

They say pu$$y and paper is poetry power and pistols.