[Tragedy Khadafi] Now really and truly what's really f**ing wit I Swear'da'God, when I spit I can hear the streets cry Moms was a dope fiend, pops was a criminal Look what this life will do to you, sh** is so subliminal I play my part when I rhyme from the heart, I feel naked Predicate felon, thoughts excelling, it's hard to take it Credit cards, ill scams, got blood ova my hands Selling my soul to Shaitan wit every ounce in gram
I done blood on the realest corners just to feed my fam Maybe I've been made a man from all the mistakes I've made n***as dead, n***as gon', but still I ain't afraid It's like I'm trapped in a trap till the morning light My mama and daddy too young just to raise me right Sometimes I reminisce on all the mistakes I've made Life wasn't cut short cuz the tools was laid G till I lay in the Earth and my flesh decays