these streets are so cold,

can you really, really,feel all this pain steady running through my vains,the steady feeling of being so lost and caughtup out here in these ghetto streets,just trying too keep my eyes wide open, throughout all the darkness,that goes down out here in these streets,steady looking down a tunnel of a hella fived, sounds of a worldwind,steady being touch by and inferno fire,making steady hard for me too breathe,steady seeing death really unfold right before my eyes,i can steady feel all these butterfly building up inside my stomach,this great big feeling of un easyiness,that comes with being out in these streets,just trying too straight up survive,all these struggles of not knowing who's your friend or foes, cause just like the weather,your closet friends can soon become your closet enemies,just like the strip they can straight up flip on you just like a drop of a dime,these are just like the days of our lives,over money,bitches,and Ho's,all these niggas up in the game,can straight up lose control, being motivated by money,greed,and drugs, knowing nothen esle but the grinding and hustling game,out here just being eating up and straight up consume by the insane game,only too later on be laugh at by the oldgee, devil himself,man old man, it's a cold,cold,game out here in these straight up ghetto streets,man old man,these streets can reachout and straight up take your soul's,out here in this here game "man", chicago's six,back with another one, up in this booth.