[Verse 1, Kemo The Blaxican]
562, 90650
I'm in a zone by myself in my section of L.A
Self contained bring more heat to the game than Al Pacino
'Cuz it wouldn't be L.A, no doubt, yeah baby we know
Crack another brew, light another spliff
To begin the translation of my brain is getting deeper insane
So don't be the operative here, down to the bone
While you're stuck in first gear some junkie is robbing your home
And now my grip is wearing thin about the mile like traction
On your radio, start slanging stereos, become the stereotype
Then I hit the 105, my eyes filled with haze
Thinking of the 50 ways to leave this crazy maze
Poisonous enemies surrounds the ground
With jealousy and greed trying to plague the hounds
But like an 18-wheeler I rumble throughout the struggle
Squashing venomous snakes that be lurking rubble
[Chorus]
Life is a struggle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How the good turn bad, and the bad die younger
So many lost souls
So many ways to cheat
So many murders to keep
So many mama's will weep
[Verse 2, Sen Dog]
There use to be a time when crime was on the mind
Anything I wanted, I got with my Nine
Didn't feel fear
Never felt sorrow
That's what I learned from the people that I followed
Better yet they taught me
Some even fought me
That's why till this day i'm so mothaf**ing co*ky
Never really cared about catching a slug
It's the game and the fame getting cash for my thugs
Never cared heaven, or thought about hell
It only came around when the homeboys failed
Time would pa**, I wouldn't feel so bad
I just walked right back, down the evil path
Now I see the youngsters taking the same road
I pray to God they stay alive, but I know they won't
[Ives Irie]
Well if they don't we will still see they face
Con cuidado keep a cuete strapped on my waist
Whatever happens, i'll be scrapping for my people good
Depression k**ing me softly but I must move on
I keep all my mind sickness in check in fact
It was a hard-learned lesson, gotta be like that
I got a question even asking if the truth is told
I got a mind still trapped up with thoughts of gold
A lot of aspiration to be more than this
Moving a pound again up in so many top ten lists
I see all that is around me so Crystal clear
But ain't no fakers gonna slip through here
Lord, keeping from dying ain't easy
In a world that is no doubt, sold out, and sleazy
Life is a struggle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How the good turn bad, and the bad die younger
So many lost souls
So many ways to cheat
So many murders to keep
So many mama's will weep
[Verse 3, Kemo The Blaxican]
Now I'm rolling down the 6-4 headed Eastbound
Look around, catch reflections of the beacon in the rear-view
Adrenaline rush
Ride the break toward slow lane
But it's my lucky day and so the black and white pa**es
Ass, gra** or cash, a familiar slogan
Wires be smoking, no joking but I ain't from Oakland
Props to el Norte, el Sur, the West, the East
Mis camaradas y mis primos in the belly of the beast
That's non-edible
When I rhyme fast they help me rhyme a little slower
It's true like that old Sun Tzu
We shine through on them fools with their lame a** crews
So they got a record deal but never paid no dues
They're making aims temporarily no doubt
But the rhymes of the jungle will strangle and take 'em out
My staff estilo: mazizo, I know you're feeling it
Some Cuates be tripping and jacking just for the thrill in it
So watch it coming like meth with your third eye
Peep the blind side the city is getting colder
Look over your shoulder, it's on and i'm out of here
I keeps pushing and moving, don't want to disappear
[Chorus]
Life is a struggle sometimes, it makes me wonder
How the good turn bad, and the bad die younger
So many lost souls
So many ways to cheat
So many murders to keep
So many mama's will weep