The Real [F3]

How my mom gone pay the bills
When these jobs ain't hiring?
Metal keep firing
The hood's getting tiresome
Why the fuck you think I go
So hard when I'm writing it?
Tryna feed the kids
The narcs striking us like lighting
My young boy 17 took a 20 to 40
By the time he do that 20, my youngin' be 40
Called me yesterday, told me he pleaded
They caught him couldn't beat it
Co-defendants was telling our lawyer
I don't spit for the kids, spit it how it is
Why would I tell you something different?
This is how I live how I came up junkies
Shooting their brains up
Niggas letting them things bust all
Over the same stuff
Heard the nigga killed my dad
Still walk in these streets
So what the fuck you think gone
Happen he walk into me?
Walk into murder, Glock walking the 33
Cause when that nigga kill my pop
It's like he murdered me
Upstate nightmares dreams of getting rich
Got me grinding like a fiend
Tryna get his fix
All they hustle for is clothes
Tryna to get a whip
These young boys think you good
If you get it brick
Try to tell them niggas chill
Chill don't pay the bills
But how you gone pay the bills
If you got a will?
And how you gone feed your kids
If you got a bid?
But I can't blame them it's the
Same shit that I done did
Be the ones close to you wanna
Do the most to you
Blink your eye, turn around
Nigga got the toast to you
On some Rico shit
My nigga's 21 and got the Rico hit
Niggas will kill their own homies
On some Nino shit for the love of the green
And the American dream for the love of the
Money seen hysterical things
Niggas will serve their own moms if
She ask for a beam