chances

How often do my fingers gotta touch the fuckin clutch

It aint as easy to do ,theres a fuckin bigger picture than a nigga

Just pullin the trigger

The images haunt you, this life is sinister

Wanted to get a fuckin taste but realized the after math was bitter

And now im strapped to the fuckin game

Forever trapped nigga, i dont even think im sane

Its complicated, its hard to explain the pain a brother feels

For the other who has ta fire the gun only to lose his mother

Makin money from the crib with the weed how else we gonna fuckin eat,we pot head mutha fuckers

Easier said then done, we be cryin for our dead peers

Runnin from the popo while tryna keep runnin careers

Then the gun fires and it hurts my ears like spears then i see

My homie on the ground and im in tears

I dont fear the bullet infact i can spit on the opposition

With the bowl pointed to my lips

Nigga i can get ya big, shoot ya in the head and hips single handed

Why you tryna mess wid tha west side niggas, cah when you shot tupac

Nigga was still standin

We all felt the fucking sadness as we see the body passin

We all got fed with tha fuckin madness

Alot of ma niggas fall to the fuckin blackness cuz we all be takin way to many chances