Pain - Trae Tha Truth, Dj.Fresh, The Worlds Freshest

Sittin in hell’s den, watchin murder like a show on

Shot him in cold blood like he was beaten with a slow arm

He ain’t really deserved it but that’s life and that must go on

Prayin we get it right, knowin somehow that we gon go wrong

It ain’t no point of being real when everybody jokin

Niggas hit the corner with cheese, man everybody’s broken

Probably to numb away the pain from a deeper wound

Sick of singing blues so they moved into a deeper tune

15 for the striped, he ain’t fightin shit

He bout that firework, self-employed, how he like this shit

Realizing if he get caught he gon be tied and hit

Plus he told that DA â «fuck a statement», he ain’t writin shit

Look nigga nuts, hangin like elephant tighters

Devil got the key and I bet he just waitin to ignite us

It’s all the same, where I’m from tell em it’s west up

But niggas lose they life for disrespect niggas so this luck

I say he used to be the man now he begging for a gram

2 $ ass nigga, can’t lend a helping hand

Yea it used to be good, he had to work for the jug

He turned his back on his niggas and went and stayed on the hood

That statement he can’t take back, regret that he made that

Sat down in trial and that recorder tape, they played that

Eye contact now but I used to look up to him

I used to wanna be just like him, now I just inspite him

Mission ain’t condoned even to my closest kin

I’m getting money now and I was getting money then

She still poppin off, ain’t nothing born in the hood

Sin City money man, I’m whipping foreigns through the hood

Times done changed, BG’s now OG’s

Used to be 25, damn that 44 the key

Better out look at life, better know how to cook the white

Soft to the heart, hard niggas turning soft

Still

My lil nigga lost his twin and I know he hurt

Cast a dark cloud over the old west

Packers wouldn’t even let him out to go and pay his respect

Last month I’ve seen a good nigga get put to rest

Tryna do my best to hold back the tears

Cus if you livin up in Oakland you livin in fear

Nigga we break the homicide record every year

I don’t know what you lookin for but love don’t live here

It’s crack babies sellin crack around here

Them lil niggas is strapped so hear me loud and clear

Ain’t nothing but dope fiends, bums and ridarum

You ain’t got a gun, better run when them niggas come

Pray to God I wake up every morning, get to see the sun

My niggas is dyin, chasin money by the tons

I’m tryna smoke away the pain but I’m killin my lungs

My brother gone now so me to teach his son