I Was Raised In The City, Shitty

They Say Pu$$y And Paper Is Poetry Power And Pistols.

No Longer Living In Fear, My Pistol Close In Hand, Convinced This Is My Year.

Why Am I Fighting To Live, If I Am Just Living To Fight Why Am I Trying To See. When There Aint Nothing In Sight Why Am I Trying To Give, When No One Gives Me A Try Why Am I Dying To Live, If I Am Just Living To Die?

Look At Those Words, 'role' And 'model.' Both Of Those Are Fake Words, To Play A Role And To Model, That's Fake. I'm Real. Being Real, I Drink, I Hang Out, I Party

Even Thugs Cry, But Do The Lord Care?