you like to mistake a street nikka for a real nikka...
Yoooooooo.......
It's like K Dot was talking to LOUDAffair in that 1st verse
I used to want to see the penitentiary
Way after elementary
Thought it was cool to look the judge
In the face when he sentenced me
Since my uncles was institutionalized
My intuition has said I was suited for family ties
My mama is stressing, my daddy tired
I need me a weapon, these nikkas ride
Every minute, hour and second. Ministers tried
To save me. How I'm gonna listen when I don't even hear God?
Heaven or Hell, base it all on my instincts
My hands dirty, you worried 'bout mud in your sink
You like to mistake a street nikka for real nikka
The same nikka that killed with ya, squealed with ya
I deal with ya like my son, stare at the sun
And you'll be looking in my eyes, homie
Stand for something, or fall for anything
And you working with two left feet at the skating rink
But anyway, this for my nikkas
Uncles, 23 hours sending me pictures
I want you to know that I'm so determined to blow
That you hear the music I wrote, hope it get you off Death Row
You came home to a pocket full of stones
A Metro PC phone, then you went back in
So when I touch the pen, the pen is in my view
I'mma get it right, just so you
Smoke Good, Eat Good, Live Good......