People die and people cry people want me dead.

I stop and stare at the younger, my heart goes to 'em, they stressed out and goin' under.

And in turn I'm hostile guess you could call me anti-social. Niggaz shakin like they caught the holy ghost when I approach em.

We look at death from the selfish side, like: "That guy died. Oh, it's so sad." Why is it sad? He's away from all of this bad stuff that's here on Earth. I mean, at the worst, he's just somewhere quiet, no nothing. At best, he's an angel... or he's a spirit somewhere. What is so bad about that?

People look to me to do things for them, to have answers.

Behind every sweet smile, there is a bitter sadness that no one can ever see and feel.

Don't support the phonies, SUPPORT THE REAL