picture my pain

if tomorrow never comes in the sun never shines forgive me for sins cause I'm sick of trying wicked thoughts in my mind ask me how I'm doing and I tell yu I'm fine speaking the truth in my rhymes born black issa crime cause all my brothas is dying got me strapped in armed pistol packing crome Smith n Wesson long until I'm dead in gone breaking bread like Jesus lifting cures off my people rather died then be evil flying swift as a eagle soaring the clouds like the star child who finally made it out no longer trapped in doubt saw the light now I'm out peace love and tru happiness pictures cant capture this