[Chrous: Namman Norris and Senim Silla] x 4
I'm' looking out my rear window
I bare witness to the street life
Staring through the gla** I watch my life past (uhh?)
[Verse 2: Naaman Norris]
They say we gotta look out for the art
Personal agendas tear the family apart
But still I'm inclined to cover mine
One body, one mind
One people, one kind
But the gun's blind, who's dying
Is it time yet
I'm looking out, pondering the purpose of this life
These quiet inner thought make me nervous, am I right
Am I wrong, in the act of service put in work
Learn the ropes, made my bed with vermin, still I hope
The present situation change course and face up
My only resolution as of yet is the paystub
I face up, staring at brick walls, they bear the mark
Every crack represent a broken heart
These broken arrows fill my quiver
I take another sip and shiver, spiting my liver
Been fighting eons
Surrounded by a city full of peons
Choking on the stench of used up air and has-beens
Smothered in the past tense
Fashion a broadsword of “don't care's” and “wasn't there's”
Remaining untouched
Looking for reasons to release, feel my blood rush
I sense the swing of enemies and still I won't duck
Tired of running, always wanting more
Tearing open sores that time can't heal, I'm uprising
The bind no longer ties the spreading of my eyelids
No longer along for the ride, I'm the pilot
[Chrous: Namman Norris and Senim Silla] x 4
I'm' looking out my rear window
I bare witness to the street life
Staring through the gla** I watch my life past (uhh?)
[Verse 2: Senim Silla]
Is life worth living I ponder a minute
Will I burn for sinning can I trust religion
Am I missing big pictures by getting high
Close my eyes and envision heaven
If I should die I hope my rest is pleasant
Think of the time I spend obsessing
Over small things d**h resolves all things
Is that pessimistic is there a lesson in it
When will the answers come
And can I handle them
How does one make proper preparation
For his final destination
When will the time come you're always too young
Living breath to breath the concept of d**h
In depth like 6 feet embryo to 60
Am I dreaming won't someone pinch me
Slap me punch me kick me
Dammit I'm awake already
I'm 25 I made it this far barely
Similar kats make it this far rarely mental intact
I sit back escaping with these trees
And gentlemen jack kats that can't see
The reason ain't been to the yack
Nor tried on my shoes I was left with
Few options so now it's second nature to
Run when the cops come
Constantly dreaming that I'm still
Locked up or getting shot up
Wake up in relief tears flowing
Down my cheeks I need doctor
To see product of the streets
[Chrous: Namman Norris and Senim Silla] x 6