I Am the Streets

[Tragedy Khadafi]
Now really and truly what's really fucking wit I
Swear'da'God, when I spit I can hear the streets cry
Moms was a dope fiend, pops was a criminal
Look what this life will do to you, shit is so subliminal
I play my part when I rhyme from the heart, I feel naked
Predicate felon, thoughts excelling, it's hard to take it
Credit cards, ill scams, got blood ova my hands
Selling my soul to Shaitan wit every ounce in gram
I done blood on the realest corners just to feed my fam
Maybe I've been made a man from all the mistakes I've made
Niggas dead, niggas gon', but still I ain't afraid
It's like I'm trapped in a trap till the morning light
My mama and daddy too young just to raise me right
Sometimes I reminisce on all the mistakes I've made
Life wasn't cut short cuz the tools was laid
G till I lay in the Earth and my flesh decays