sittin on my porch looking front to back with a torch to the side of me im blaxin on fire cuttin through the cytoplasm they run up on us we gon blast um with this 45 to ya head you crackhead, now ya dead, bloodshed keep that unsaid my parents doin great just because of them i dont wanna pass that prison gate I know exatcly what it would cause, it would cause a lot of sadness and torturing hate. 1996 flamingo road september 7 oh you think so bring no crybaby tears, roll that eindow back up pump you up with some bullets make you qauk like a duck make you feel drunk riding around im 64 ready to blow so you know how to grow and get that dough imma overflow i want the crown on my head. pac always told us only god could jugde us. discuss us. give us a nudge to not be a slug but to be a thug walkin around the streets were I come from cops patrollen with no soul i got my pistol on my left hip collecting my payroll.