yeah! uh!
it's a cold world colder if your skin colored
charge me for bein armed with a street corner
in the blocks where we reside ain't no neighborhood watch
just us
bakin pies try cook me a watch
try bake me a bands a like my nigga 'ye said
make a spaceship so i could fly up outta this bitch
now my baby girl's stressin 'cause her dad locked up
baby mama came to visit 'nother bitch popped up
nightmares of a convict
brook ave prepared me for any conflict
shook hands with every kingpin from harlem the bronx in fact
'round the time von zip nicknamed me crack
now how ill is that
my nigga told ya what he said
if he ever caught her he'll shoot up the precinct
oh lord! i pray the lord forgive her
so lord! but thank you for the dope and what it bring us
grimey in the early 90's-9-9-90's-fat joe"