The cool kids, they rule this
You talk about them suicides, he blew it high
Stay on too long and get lost on that stupid ride
And believe me the way home woulda killed ya
the same shots flying though them little kids, and they baby sistas
They say the games f.u.c.k.e.d up but be lucky you in it
Hold your hand out and you might get nothing for dinna
Luck was the killer, dreams bullets in a death gun
Shots take your soul, but some n.i.g.g.a.s don't have one
The world ain't promised you s.h.i.t
She just a bad b.i.t.c.h; all attractive and s.h.i.t
I wanna breath easy
Cause life's heavy when the worlds on your shoulders
I got a heartache, a lot a things I wish that I told her
