Inner Cities (feat. Seuss Mace)

What must I do to begin to let you know that I'm not the one you can fake on I'm in the studio cooking daily I'm a lyrical chef like Raekwon Watching the ghetto through eye boogers Mama sent me to the store to buy sugar Hopped up inside of my converse And I hit the block like a fine hooker On the way I heard a gun singing  With a man screaming in the background Where I'm from even if you run track You are not exempt from the track down Loving words over cold caskets Too familiar and it's so tragic Trying to change for the better But steadily getting haunted by my old habits Voice muffled in economy class Poison the reign/rain of things clear Through the poor people who speak truth Because in the rich heart it strikes fear And I drop my tears frequent Knowing it's supposed to replicate semen I'm going to keep it keep it  Only inside, the external Better confined in a journal They manipulate the vulnerability Killing any shred of hope you possess Poverty stricken and I'm thinking about Just handing the devil my soul to molest Because I know when I'm next Everyone (keep) saying I'm next What they don't see is the stress  But I'm making a way  Took a trip to the inner city Saw a old homie said he spun the block Took a step or two away from him Looked him in eye's didn't see a lot Couldn't save his soul All he saw was opps Such a big fish on little dock Is gonna stop Does it ever really stop Met a lady through socializing she got paid shows to artists she provides them There are three doors in hip hop and ones a closet You could sellout and sell records You could stick to yah guns stay indie or no progress Gone with the wind Each song brings a win May not know'em til collaboration but when in rotation we acquaint through tax Music can bring a message hope the melody help a heathen through the parallax In the studio send a invoice for raps Rip to Coolio paradise on the the map For a gangsta who tryna feed the ones love make appearances in the club and roll with thugs The epitome of what one thought he really was Only speaking on his experience with the drugs At a young age saw a body for the first time Side the crib cops came sprayed lines Momma figured everyone be fine The irony of it is she had moved us far away from the philly streets City to suburbs van or jeep Find a way tryna make ends meet There was not one thing that we did not have that my mother would know we need Been using the memories as batteries And the baggage leaves Put it out of site and out of mind it loop gets back to I let the passion bleed Took a trip to the inner city Saw a old homie said he spun the block Took a step or two away from him Looked him in eye's didn't see a lot Couldn't save his soul All he saw was opps Such a big fish on little dock Is gonna stop Does it ever really stop Took a trip to the inner city Saw a old homie said he spun the block Took a step or two away from him Looked him in eye's didn't see a lot Couldn't save his soul All he saw was opps Such a big fish on little dock Is gonna stop Does it ever really stop Lyrical chef like Raekwon Mama figured everyone will be fine Lyrical chef like Raekwon Mama figured everyone will be fine