Every Ghetto

(album: Stillmatic - 2001)

Uh, yeah, uh
Blessings of life to the children, they say life is like five days
Words of a old man with silver hair, in his wheelchair
His eyes were bloody while describing what lies before me
Said evil bitches and jealous men would try to destroy me
It occurred to me, this old nigga's words couldn't be realer
I'm on top now, slightest drama, I'll have to kill ya
'Cause animals sense weakness, sharks smell blood in water
Ishmael, Moses and Job knew the divine order
Shit is plastic material, having no life
I crash whips and leave it no matter the price
As long as I survive, cop a new five
Circle the block where the beef's at
And park in front of my enemy's eyes
They see that it's war we life stealers, hollow-tip lead busters
There's no heaven or hell – dead is dead fuckers
And your soul is with God, your mind keeps lurking the earth
Watching your own murder reoccur

For ever struggle, every strip, and every ghetto
For every nigga toting inner pain and heavy metal
For every child that's born, and every nigga gone
And for every breath I breathe and live to see another morning
For ever struggle, every strip, and every ghetto
For every nigga toting inner pain and heavy metal
For every child that's born, and every nigga gone
And for every breath I breathe and live to see another morning

It's Blitz nigga the streets glory many die for me
Got knocked, refused 3 to 9s, went to trial for me
Basically I'm just reality, loaded with foul stories of lust
Greed and contempt, no street is exempt
Extended clip shots, hoods barricaded for 6 blocks
I sip shots, watching em hustlers pitch rocks
Oil painting pictures of my pain, illustrate the city in vain
Falling deep into the pits of the game
This is for the sickest state of mind, in these fatal times
Vest crimes, nickel-plated nines and niggas for the dime
Hear the sounds of them babies cry, still I'm saying why do we reside
In the ghetto with a million ways to die
Staying high to relieve the pain, breathing in the game
Exhaling guilt sin and shame, misery and strain
What the fuck will tomorrow bring; luck or anthrax
I stand back, hoping I'll make it through tomorrow

My skin is a art gallery, right – with paintings of crucifixes
Hoping to save me from all the dangers in the music business
Was once a young gangsta hanging with youth offenders
But since I tasted paper it started losing the friendships
Watching kids freeze in winters, they still poor
How could I tease them with Benzes and feel no remorse
Driving past them in the lively fashion, diamond colors clashing
Red stones, blue stones, red bones and black ones
Fuck did I expect with bucket seats in a Lex
And spending time in Chuckie Cheese with Little Des
Got guns when I'm with my daughter
Hate to bring a violent aura in her presence
She knows what daddy taught her, it's lessons
Black princess it's a ugly world
I put my life up for yours, see I love that girl
Could you believe even my shadow's jealous
My skin is mad at my flesh, my flesh hates my own bones
My brain hates my heart, my heart makes the songs
Though my songs come from the Father
I'm lonely... hold me, it's getting darker

For ever struggle, every strip, and every ghetto
For every nigga toting inner pain and heavy metal
For every child that's born, and every nigga gone
And for every breath I breathe and live to see another morning
For ever struggle, every strip, and every ghetto
For every nigga toting inner pain and heavy metal
For every child that's born, and every nigga gone
And for every breath I breathe and live to see another morning