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Told him it's nothing to me
Walkin through zones where they killing and busing at people
I'm floating through time and it seems that it's taking a toll
Moving slower like a cup full of lean
And it's nothing to see
Them people diluted the way I'm computing the views and it's losing
It's power to move me I'm probably cool but don't trip if I move through
The carnage just clutching my heat
Came up in a city
Where pimps and the pushers and pros was fucking wit me
Watching the scene was influencing moves
More than Cuba and Cube in the hood when they up on the screen
But nothing would be
The same if I came from the burbs with the yards and it's nothin but trees
Neighbors debating bout grass and the property taxes
I'd manage but struggle to be
Cool in the face of these challenges
Damnit it's crazy but I couldn't handle these
Rockets and bodies that's dropping
If I never walked up the blocks near Pulaski and Madison
Maybe that's simply my vantage
Since I feel I managed the damage of making it out
Handled the stress like a champ and I'm chasing my dreams
While them lames just be chasing the clout
I put in perspective the way that I'm wired
Feeling no pain but I'm feeling the gains
And the feeling remains that I'm good
Despite demons and villains and people that try it
I might be inspired by winning when
Odds are stacked up to the ceiling and people denying
My method of living it's cool but I need to
Remind them…I need to remind them…I'm a
Product of the west side environment
I have been preconditioned to the firing
Si-uh-rens, lights and the flashes, drive by and then
Guys have been laid in the streets like a tire print I am
Immune to the struggle you feeling
When people you fighting against end up killing
Or blowing up buildings that people you know or you close to
Were living, it comes wit the scene it's a given so
Maybe I'm different, cuz I was just chilling when rockets were dropping
And coming through ceilings
Not ducking for cover or shaking
I cannot control when I go, if it's my time then it's ending
I'm cool with the life that I'm living
but that fear of death don't reside in my spirit
The fam and the friends are not trying to hear it
I get it, no rush on my part I'm not trying to tempt it
Harder to live ,like every moment that I get could end
With dying or suffering slow in a ditch
So please quit telling me life's a bitch,
Cuz if life's a bitch
Then death is Lorena Bobbitt with machetes and swords and knives, and shit
I'm kidding but love it and live it, pretending
That this is the only bitch you bout to get

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