Saw a Gangsta Cry
The way some cats yeah get that cash
Fuck around have a gun in your face
Tied up and their whippin your ass
Man most cats man they don't play 'cause their moms get high
I can still recall the day I saw a gangsta cry
Man under the hot sun
Young caps they buck with hot guns fat ones
Man if you sellin this
You better know the consequence shit
Walk just like army ants
Yeah man let me borrow that
Please homboy don't be no snitch
You put this business before that fine bitch
Here go a classic tale
A muthafucka just got outta jail
Slipped up on some major mail
Then went back to jail on major bail yo
Yo most cats man they don't play 'cause their moms get high
I can still recall the day I saw a gangsta cry
Don't be no perpetrator
Fuck around and be on a respirator
Going up to heaven on an escalator
'Cause they sent you to hell on an elevator yo
Your right in front of the corner store with the 4-5 slug
Some might say it's unity but there ain't no love
Crack a smile like a beer bottle
Don't worry 'bout the bullet cause it feel hollow
Keep your foot on the gas throttle
These motherfuckers ain't no role models
Blow yo mind with an evil disguise
Wickin' this nigga right in front of yo eyes
Where he got shot that's where he lies
Layin' there dead with open eyes
Blow you over on a street corner
It's all about that B-Soda
Breakin' arms and shoulders cause this drama's thick as quotas
They bust at you and you bust back
They just like a whip you go snap back
How they gunna fuck with you fuck that
Kill them all so they don't come back
Mind state
Crime rate
Hell waits for jail baits
Man if you make a mistake don't even wait
But mothafucka get up outa my face
It's a dirty loss for a dirty game
So mothafucka it's a dirty shame
I saw a gangsta cry
I saw a gangsta cry
I saw a gangsta cry
I saw a gangsta cry
It was a trip when I first saw a gangsta cry
Didn't know, didn't ask, didn't wonder why
It was a trip when I first saw a gangsta cry
Didn't know, didn't ask didn't wonder why
Indestructible, fuck with a nigga
Grow so slow, ten years seven digits
Make a bill with Baxter a broadcasta
A painy thang to fake homies laughter?