Hoping They Bury Me With Ammunition, Weed,

I'm Responsible For What I Did. I'm Not Responible For What Every Black Male Did. Yes! I Call Myself A Thug, Because I Grew Up In The Ghetto. And Im Still Standing.

When An Angel Comes Down And Takes Me Away, Memories Of Me And My Songs Will Always Stay Until The End Of Time

Forgive, But Don't Forget

We Are Weak, Please Let Us In. We're Week, Please Let Us In." After About A Week Tha Song Is Gonna Change To, "we're Hungry, We Need Some Food." After Two, Three Weeks It's Like "give Me Some Of Tha Food! I'm Breakin Down Tha Door." After A Year It's Like, "i'm Pickin' The Lock, Comin' Through The Door Blastin." It's Like, "i'm Hungry.

We Look At Death From The Selfish Side, Like: "that Guy Died. Oh, It's So Sad." Why Is It Sad? He's Away From All Of This Bad Stuff That's Here On Earth. I Mean, At The Worst, He's Just Somewhere Quiet, No Nothing. At Best, He's An Angel... Or He's A Spirit Somewhere. What Is So Bad About That?