[Chorus]
I show ya how to do it now homie, 'cause it's ok
Got the Spirit all over this music, put all of the guns away
I keep it gully for the streets and gangstas, but I'm trying to make a change
'Cause there's too many of my dogs and comrades, homies done passed away

[Verse 1]
Coming up in my early days, I was raised around blacks and esés
And thugs with short tempers that are quick to spray
Then throw up a gang sign reppin' they set
I'm from the west man, this about as hard as it gets
The projects saturated wit drugs and dealers
And the streets consist of the guns and cold killas
It's bad enough man the odds are against me
And homies in the hood just wanna bang and smoke hemp trees
They say the only way for me to push Bentleys
Is ride and bust bullets till the whole clip empty
All these demons slowly trying to tempt me
"You'll never make a difference, Bone" yeah but God sent me to
Revolutionize the style that your youths do
And reach all of the gangstas in them khakis and zoot suits
Came to try to make some of you open your eyes
And realize what really happens homie after you die

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
Will the killing ever cease? It's like we got a sick disease
That makes us, pack a piece, in these cold heart streets
Gotta break the generational curse
Hurts to see these young brothers getting hauled off in a hearse
What's worse, we promote it though songs and movies
We banned the Passion of the Christ, but endorse Glocks and Uzis
Then we wonder why are kids is dying, bullets flying
Gangsta's riding and gangs multiplying
At such fast rapid rate
Could it be all the heroes man kind create?
We teach our children how to murder in these video games
So all they do is imitate what's inside of their brains
'Cause to them all of the killing is cool
So they pack in the backpacks then shoot up the school
And then leave them other children wounded and dead
Then realize what they did and turn the gun to they head

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Raised in a dangerous place where thugs pack heat, creep
Throw up 'em blue flags, C-walk to the beat
Blast from the jeep and leave you in the back of your seat
Face down in a pool of blood resting in peace
Mark of the beast is plotting trying to leave us deceased
Bullets flying throughout our neighborhoods roaming the streets
It's a war zone where we living, partners dying
And got collect calls from tha prison twice a day
Inside the land of the murderers, crooks and armed burglars
Pimps, and curb servers, and golden state warriors
That say you gotta be ready to die, you gotta decide
Could be facing 20 to life
In a 6 by 9 cell, in jail wit no bail
Just waiting to get mail where destiny is hell
You shoulda known gangstas never retire
It's blood, blood out, homie, devil's a liar

[Chorus] (x2)