Deep Roots

How you gon leave your kids like that?
Fending for themselves in these streets
Being raised watching they brothers and sisters be ran up on and beat.
Sirens going off learning real fast how to move they feet.
Coming to visit you, seeing they daddy through that half inch thick glass
Draped in orange, nothing new, the same thing you’ve been wearing all week
Officers in your ear telling you to stand yo ass up and sit yo ass in a seat
Messed up thing about this daddy is you wasnt even there when I was born, heart was pumping for the first time as momma held me.
You were on a 30 to life vacation in that cell.
She never failed to tell me to never be like you
Young nigga serving 30- life with no parole
Real f***** up you prolly will never see day light again
Once again that judicial system got a damn win
Daddy you left me to be raised in them streets, now I got a big homie telling me when and where to meet.
As soon as those opps bend the corner me and my boys on our feet
Knowing one day imma prolly die in these streets, but until then ill bang this blue bandana from the east to the west.
Being out here in these streets dealing the hood this white fun-dip, too much of it and you gon be gone quick.
Livin this life aint nothing to brag about, waking up with that bag havin to run these routes
Ducking my head everytime them pigs come around
With this .40mm on my side, like I’m in the car and buckled in like a seat belt
Best believe if you don’t follow the rules of these streets, the coroner gonna be covering you in a white sheet.
Everyone in this game is only at the bottom, every single one of us is struggling for a place at the top.
Seems often times we workin against each other, passing our nigga the strap to bust a cap right in that boy’s back.
Givin his momma something to want back, her son was only seventeen when them bullets started flying.
Better get down or them bullets gon put your name to that metal and don't forget we live in America so there is neva gon be no settle.
Everybody knows when them black SUV’s hit the block, the clock starts to tick-toc.
Roaming through the hood, they pullin up to the dope house.
Hoping out them cars now, ready to kick that door in
You and your boys hop up and start running, but they gon chase you down.
Hopping over them fences you getting them legs up and down, but a dude come from nowhere and tackles you down.
He got them shackles on your wrist with your face in the ground.
Now you walking through that same jail that your daddy livin in.
Praying to God not knowing what the next move is, your father welcoming you home was some shit you could not believe.
Sitting in that jail cell not knowing if you supposed to tell, but every nigga know one word can lead to a bad spell cast on you.
So don’t fall in love with these streets cause you only a piece of meat and your n***** some dogs ready to feast.