[Chorus: Murs]
Post traumatic stress, PTSD
If you from the hood then you just like me
N***as kick in your door for a PS3
How the fuck do you expect me to be stress free?

[Verse 1: Murs]
Homeboy asked me if I been to the service
Standing on stage taking flicks got me nervous
All up in my face when I'm trying to be working
Sit your fat ass down behind that curtain
Bitch I'm from the land of the Bloods and the Crips
N***as kill n***as just to fuck a bitch
You could lose your life for that busta shit
By the time I was nine, seen a bunch of shit
Lost more homies than a Iraq vet
N***as skipping on groceries to buy that Tec
Lost a few friends to a rival set
And I'm still tryna process them side effects
Extra clips, extra clips
I see them n***as now when I'm set to trip
Gangbang party time, excellent
Not giving a fuck's a prerequisite
My testament is so trill
For the represent is so real
My residents got evidence I'm a legend in the ville
Pills to the crack game, stills in the rap game
Every n***a rapping tryna fill up that lane (gotta fill that lane)
Back to the backstage
Punk for the photo pass, 'bout to catch that fade
Fuck your badge
Now you wanna ask me why I'm so mad?
Get your ass beat for a photograph
Get the fuck out my dressing room 'fore I go bad
The homies laugh, I kept it moving
When they gon' learn that there's more to music
I do this shit so I could feed my kids
So they never have to know what a repo is
You really think you know how my people live?
You think you down because you know who Deebo is?
PTSD on my emo shit
Deep down in my heart, where the evil lives
[Chorus: Murs]
Post traumatic stress, PTSD
If you from the hood then you just like me
N***as kick in your door for a PS3
How the fuck you expect me to be stress free?
Post traumatic stress, PTSD
If you from the hood then you just like me
How the fuck you expect me to be stress free?
You really think you crazy? Bitch, let's see

[Verse 2: E-40]
I ain't playing with a full deck
I been going through a lot of shit
Put holes in you like a hairnet
Emptying the clip
You picked the wrong n***a to fuck with
I ain't with that fake shit, I don't play it
I'm on some real time
Ain't no time to be dealing with these phony ass bitch boys
[?] my pocket and I stay with a [?]
This a Rolley bitch, hell nah it ain't a false one
Used to push bricks, but now a n***a push bottles
Cause G's on your head like a chicken tostada
Had a hood yelling "bravo" celebrating and whatnot
Happy cause he almost terrorizing the whole block
Breaking into homes, stealing anything they got
Nobody at his funeral, nobody cried a drop
Post traumatic stress, PTSD
My people wanna work, no J-O-B
These bitches wanna twerk, shake they booty
To pay they college tuition, that's what they see on TV
(That's what they see on TV, that's what they see on TV)
To pay they college tuition, that's what they see on TV
They mommy and they daddy drop the ball on 'em
They ain't never there when they call on 'em
The ways of the world, the worldly ways
We living in the last days false idols praise
And all the real rappers with a lot of shit to say
The kids nowadays think they wack today
(They think they wack today, they think we wack today)
Cause my favorite rapper doesn't sound like they
How the fuck you expect me to be stress free?
If you from the hood then you just like me
[Chorus: Murs]
Post traumatic stress, PTSD
If you from the hood then you just like me
N***as kick in your door for a PS3
How the fuck you expect me to be stress free?
Post traumatic stress, PTSD
If you from the hood then you just like me
How the fuck you expect me to be stress free?
You really think you crazy? Bitch, let's see