Searching
And they said that I should hang with thugs, bust my gun and hustle drugs. But I’ma keep on searching.
And they said that I shouldn’t look that way and turn my back on that teenage runaway. But I’ma keep on searching.
And they said that I’d killed in the raid, I’m out lookin for a cure for AIDS. But I’ma keep on searching.
Niggas is dead broke, ain’t even got a quarter.
Katrina is everywhere, just without the water.
Hustling is cancer, nothing’s the answer.
Taking penitentiary chances, pumpin for Pampers.
Bricks and the pounds is strictly for outta town cuz whoever still around either starving or they a clown.
That and they hate truth.
Pain is something people relate to.
In that case, shoot up the wake too.
Think I got the layout but I’m still searching for a way out.
They gonna make me bring the AK out.
Either you a lottery pick or you probably spit, as long as the shoe probably fit.
I heard you fucking them bitches, you probably sick.
That’s my word. The hood is like a bottomless pit.
Most don’t make it, rich niggas ratting, the broke niggas hating.
I swear I can’t take it.
