My soul heavy like my chain
And this fucking traffics movin is
slower then my god damn brain
On them weed leafes
and flying like a plane
While niggas gettin shot on my
block over and over again
I never really understood Og´s
Take a way the lifes of brothers to show it off like trophies
Take a way the lifes of brothers to show it off like trophies
Im stuck listenin to oldies. Stick my cassette in the player and get lost in sum dope beats.
But we still got the 411 the day after
Half the block in tears, The other half stuck in laughter
Then we light one and pass one
In has name cuz the budda helps us forget faster
One iman, rabi or one pastor
To lead us through the ceremony as they lower the castet
From ashes to ashes
From here to gone
Round here aint nobody got time to mourn
Death never comes alone
That person getting shot could be somebody
you know
