Rest in peace Machine Gun Black

Rest in peace Lil Damo

Ay yo, niggas always ask me likeWhy am I talking extra shit

I say I rap like this ′cause I'm tryna keep you outta prison (Real shit)

Fuck the radio, I′m tryna keep you out here living, my nigga

Listen my nigga, tell me you are truth

(These are the real Sopranos)

Yo, if it don't affect us we never paid much attention

We busy, stuck in our ways, still slaves of tradition

Boys to men quick cause we was raised in the system

Worshippin false Gods from a made up religion

Most of my close friends caught felonies in they teens

You either in or out, there's never no inbetween

Never wanted much, just longevity for the team

Could have went to Harvard, funny my speciality was the fiends

Gold on my neck, that′s what they expect from us, we kings

Got ya bitch for a pet, she just wanted to please

When she around, we don′t talk checks, numbers and things

That's family business, we don′t address none 'til she leave

Uhh, when you a hustla, ain′t nothin ever out of reach

When I count a milli up that's when I′ma sleep

Until then I got a seat for who got it cheap

I heard they 21 in Atlanta just like Dominique Wilkins, ahh

Sometimes friends turn to foes

I can make halves turn to wholes

I pray my ideas turn to goals

These the confessions of a burnin' soul

The mirror tell me that I'm turnin′ old

Stress on me—the street shit done turned us cold

Uhh, movie shit; I had to earn a role

These the confessions of a—these the confessions of a

Ahh, you won′t (?) the realest when I'm not in the room

My mother always told me not to assume (Real shit)

And I got this far abidin the rules

A block with a groove, a Glock, pot and spoon

Uhh, I know she worried when I don′t call her for weeks

Caught in the streets, I think about her fallin asleep

Her oldest dead, her youngest locked up callin to speak

She taught it to me, so she know, it's part of the streets

Fatherless seeds, grow up to be robbers and thieves

Blood thirsty killers with a carnivorous greed

Street chronicles, we honorable thieves

Started off coppin coke, hope we don′t end up gettin conjugal V's

Uhh, real shit, you already know what I′m into

Real things that's what real men do

I put a mask on my face if my rent due

I'm just happy I don′t look like what I′ve been through, uhh

Sometimes friends turn to foes

I can make halves turn to wholes

I pray my ideas turn to goals

These the confessions of a burnin' soul

The mirror tell me that I′m turnin' old

Stress on me—the street shit done turned us cold

Uhh, movie shit; I had to earn a role

These the confessions of a—these the confessions of a (Ugh)

This is a true story of extreme violence brutality