Produced by: 9th Wonder When all dreams seem to die The summer's gone, the breeze stops blowing The sun just leaves the sky Yeah, this your life, you can play with it You make your bed, you gon' lay in it Do your thing, just be safe with it Triple bunks in the state prison Blue laces in my blue chucks I ain't never gave two ***** BET I chucked the hood up Asking if that ***** Nip hood, what Like I wouldn't take it to the back with you Same ***** walk the track with you Same ***** shot a strap with you Same ***** bought a sack with you Nineteen touchin' two birds Alpinas off a few swerves Grey leather in my white Lincoln S**t smellin' like a new purse Two C's on my ***** s**t My money risin' like Bisquick Six words help you get this Rich Rapper On Some Crip S**t I prayed for blessings as a young ***** Not to learn the hard lessons of a drug dealer Triple life with a gang enhancement The judge triple white and he hate your blackness Slam the gavel with a racist passion Got you waitin' on appeals but your patience passin' All you've got to offer is a fight It's too late to run to Christ once you caught up in this life Look So face the world now or cry Look Don't cry tears, they don't fly here And if you don't die here, you supposed to fly lears 365 here is like a dog year No wonder why these ****** 20 and got white hairs Stressin' like they 40 and some change It's lonely in this game, all my homies is in pain And brodie is the slang, but it don't mean he your brother It don't mean you can trust him, it don't mean that he love you And we was raised wrong but we stayed strong And when we kept it real, we got faked on And when we showed up, we got flaked on While them ****** story's gettin' cake holmes I bet my life I'm a dice shaker Electric lights on a skyscraper Was up and downs for a real ***** But you'll be lame all your life, hater Mac-10 in my black Benz Show me signals of betrayal, can't be back friends Long flights get my mind right Victory to me is when you spend your time right Victory to me is when you get your grind right Victory to me is when you get your moms right ******, got this s**t twisted Like Jean-Michel Basquiat destroyed his pictures Self-inflicted homicide, don't pull the trigger I feel like I got to tell you you got something to contribute Regardless what you into, regardless what you been through I feel like I got to tell you you got something to contribute Something to contribute So face the world now or cry