Thinka 'Bout It

Yeah! Another funky song for your mind in the nine-two And the nine-three, P-Dog in the motherfuckin' house! Bout to get it started Bout to get it started, live and direct from the underground Still sayin' what I want to say, and I ain't gon' never change Oh what a shame, the way that we're dyin' up Killi'n ourselves with no help from the other one Only thought, was how the hell to get your money on Livin in fear cause you're livin' in a war zone So much funk, jump off from a wrong look Make a wrong move one time and your life's took Just the way it is when you're livin' in the city The way we dyin' off is a motherfuckin' pity Extra, extra, read all about it Another one dead, he seen a bullet and he caught it How many gotta fall off victim to the game Or being a ho, to the cocaine thang Makin' a rush up, to keep 'em comin' back again You oughta know by now it ain't no love for African People stay enslaved to the ways of America I'm scarin' ya But I ain't goin out like that, so think about it now [Chorus] "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah" "Young brothers just don't realize" Yeah, think about it "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah" "Young brothers just don't realize" Think about it "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah" "Young brothers just don't realize" Uhh, think about it People keep comin' up, askin' the news They want to know, why I do what I do It's really kinda simple, so don't be amazed It ain't no secret it's the way I was raised Got much props from my pops cause he never stops Bein a father to his child, he cared a lot Raised me up, and told me like this: You better stand up for yours or be dissed Be a man, and do for yourself Better love your own befo' anyone else It ain't nothin' in the big city but a small thang To see a brother straight fall victim to the game Somethin' that I roll with straight from the start In a city where a fool and his money soon part Where brothers might die over anything at all I can't call it but I know you better watch your step And think about it now "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah" "Ay nigga what you need?" "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah" "I got five ten, what?" "Yeah five ten fifteen twenty. I heard they got fifty." "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah" "Ay nigga what? Ay nigga where you from?" "Get that motherfucker! Get that ol' nigga!" "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah" "Move man! Move!" "Freeze motherfucker freeze! Get your god damn hands in the air!" "Oh shit. Oh shit! Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh Shit." "The jury, having found you guilty, twenty-five years." And now there's one last thing, I think we need to talk about It might save your life and you die if you do without Pokin' in the puddin' mean you better wrap tight Tragic to Magic my soap in your eye And now you better straighten up, and straighten up fast Relyin' on the guts and the luck of the last 'Cause the fool was in with the skins shoulda never been In with the skins no cap for the lap get waxed Now, who growin' up next? Ready for the sex better check with the latex So many trapped and set for the funk Who take they life for a joke so I say wait a minute Genocide from the suicide of dippin' inside Everybody die when the legs spread ride Gave to the sons of the slave and it's man-made AIDS and you're off to your grave, think about it now [Chorus: x2]