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No little babies cryin', momma ain't dyin' Poppa livin' home, he got a steady job Everybody full, he don't gotta rob Damn Walk witt me, talk witt me Sometimes I just sit and think You know it's hard to express it y'all That's why I put it all in ink We ain't black or white Matter fact we are, but we don't have to fight or kill Maybe Malcom would've been alive still Maybe Martin would've been able to chill Maybe a black face on a dollar bill I keep hope alive that I stay alive I think it's comin', I'm tryin' not to drink and drive A place where the death penalty is gone.
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I don't know, maybe we can make a change, maybe not I'm tired of cryin', I'm tired of livin' I'm tired of niggaz, I'm tired of women Just wanna be myself, keep the fame Keep the wealth, give me my health Take me to a place where there ain't hatin' no more Where I don't gotta raise the hammer and clap the 4 Where I don't gotta kick your door and ask for more Where I don't gotta dig your floor and look for raw Where I don't gotta serve no heads Cook no coke, no such thing as feds And there's no such thing as aids And little kids live the age they walk the stage.