Verse One: C-Bo

I was born in hell without a pistol
Now how can I survive with one live without a vest and 4-5?
Runnin from the Task Fo' but smashin for my cash
Bankin corners, hop it then I blast on their ass
See them piggies want me dead for sure or in the pen
Doin 10, instead of me in my Benz on some twins
Sippin Hen, smokin indica bomb
And keep my pedal to the metal til I'm high and gone
I know you rich n***as hate me, can I keep it real and feel this rap shit?
Didn't make me, got out the pen and flip the '97
Drop Mercedes, I'm the *?placenta?* of no love
Til the lord save me, straight thugs that'll dump slugs
Til they fuckin grave, mass murder motherfuckers to the front page
When we hit, we empty clips til we get paid
I've been a slave from my cradle to the grave
N***a, fuck the world, I was raised in hell

Chorus: C-Bo

That's why we buck shit down and yell "Fuck the world!"
I'd rather die here in hell then die doin life in jail
But take the shot with a Mac 12, order hits on the *?pack tailed?*
]From the block to Wotts, we are thug n***as raised in hell
*repeat*