As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I take a look at my life and realise there's none left
Cause I've been brassing and laughing so long that
Even my mamma thinks that my mind is gone
But I aint never crossed a man that didn't deserve it
Me be treated like a punk, you know that's unheard of
You better watch how you talking, and where you walking
Or you and your homies might be lined in chalk
I really hate to trip but I gotta lope(?)
As they croak I see myself in the pistal smoke ... fool
I'm the kinda G that little homies want to be like
On my knees in the night, saying prayers in the street light
