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Entertainment is changin, intertwinin with gangsters
In the land of the killers a sinner's mind is a sanctum
Holy or unnholy, only have one homie
Only this gun - lonely cause don't anyone know me
Yet everybody just feels like they can relate
I guess words are a motherfucker, they can be great
or they can degrate; or even worse, they can teach hate
It's like these kids hang on every single statement we make
like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen?
From standin on corners and porches just rappin
to havin a fortune, no more kissin ass
But then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at you
to get they hands on every dime you have
They want you to lose your mind every time you mad
So they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannon
Any dispute won't hesitate to produce handguns
That's why these prosecutors wanna convict me
Strictly just to get me off of these streets quickly
But all they kids be listenin to me religiously
So I'm signin CD's while police fingerprint me
They're for the judge's daughter but his grudge is against me
If I'm such a fuckin menace this shit doesn't make sense B!
It's all political, if my music is literal
and I'm a criminal how the FUCK can I raise a little girl?
I couldn't; I wouldn't be fit to
You're full of shit too Guerrera - that was a FIST that hit you!