To wrap up this week in hip hop...
Yo, for my nikka that got killed, got hit up
Vodka spills on the concrete
Light a swisha, we miss ya
And for that girl who never made it home, shot in the dome
How they gon' kill that beautiful sista
Violent adolescents, homicidal with weapons
Not a lot of knowledge inside of they minds, that I'm guessing
Tell me who you impressing
Shooters I knew them when they was babies
I used to test them
Make em throw up they hands, choke em out playing wrestling
Watch em grow to a man
I see them now they repping
But they cold-blooded, homie
Wondering where the respect went
Can't play with these little nikkas, gangsta little nikkas
Can't hang with these little nikkas, they killing, they reckless
Wish I could build with him, but will he change really
Some real killers
I think of Wayne Perry
Think of my nikka Drawz
But you ain't a name to me you ain't mean to kill him