* people talking *

[Chorus]
Young wild n***as living street life on the edge
Not knowing if tomorrow they could turn up dead
Yo fuck regular cops n***as get scoped by the Feds
The ghetto live in bloodshed (yo), we live in bloodshed

[Verse 1]
I know this African cat, jet-black, gold grill
Said we can split a half a mil if I could get his wife killed
The Feds on him, Jake too, put seven on patrol
Cops shot him, the stroll by his man that's on parole
Now he haunted, had a big screen but he pawned it
Watching FOX, saw his face on America's Most Wanted
With three seeds to feed, stress piled like bricks
So he got a fix, roll with his crackhead clique
Staying twisted, robbing young ducks for their bucks
One day he slipped up, caught two shells to his gut
But he recovered to say the first shell wasn't shit
What you working with? A rusty 22 kid?
Then he flipped quick, bust back from four-fifths
Six fire, four hit, one crushed the pelvis
The others went through his wrist
How's that for accurate?
The kid's scarred for life
Equipped with a permanent limp
He was ill when he was young, trying to raise his son
Every time beef come he blast the Mac one-one
Spending two G's on cloth to impress the hoes
Getting money in Milwaukee with a house on the low
He played the Five Boroughs, everyday fly
Thought he couldn't die
Bags of hydro in the 5, getting high
He had a rep for hijacking, extortion and kidnapping
Shooting up clubs, airport drug trafficking
He met his match, fuck around and rob the wrong cat
For a hundred and eighty Gs the God want his cream back
Now it's a gun battle, but the son ain't fessing
He grabbed his Wesson
These n***as looking for me I'ma shoot their ass a lesson
Going all out, kill or be killed, what's done is done
These n***as not stopping me from having my fun
He at the tunnel, flexing his whip, rims dipped
Had to much Courvoisier so he started to slip
Oh Shit! Their go them n***as that I stuck that black truck
Give a fuck they want their cream, I'ma let my gat bust
Let his shells fly, the God got hit twice he wounded
The liquor started talking didn't know what he was doing
He crashed the whip, jumped out ran to Sixth
Flagged a cab, "yo take me to Madison Ave"
He did too much to live, and too much to turn back
Lay bleeding, wondering why it had to end like that
"Nobody's left, the world just me and myself"
In back of the cab, son bled to death
It's fucked up, he was a good n***a...

[Interlude]
Word up.. the street stories.. know what I'm saying
Word up, with the inner-city kids... yeah

[Chorus] (x2)
Young wild n***as living street life on the edge
Not knowing if tomorrow they could turn up dead
Yo fuck regular cops n***as get scoped by the Feds
The ghetto live in bloodshed (yo), we live in bloodshed

[Outro]
And we die in bloodshed, word up
We born to the paradise so respect your life, word up
Black man move on, word up
Headstrong, to the knotty one
Men on lock down, word up
Gun Rule, the BX, BK, know what I'm saying, Shaolin
Word up, Queens n***as, word up