Questions

[Lyrics from Snippet]

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]
I start this record, not knowing how Imma start this record
This that drop-out hood talk with the Harvard effort
Hear me out, you niggas got a second, your boy is unsteady
I'm tired of talking already
And I ain't said shit, but here goes
My life is hectic, my mother's a diabetic, her sugar be high, I'm headed
To doctors with her to fire questions, I hope the replying message ain't dialysis
I'm cry and let it out, my mother die, forget it
I'll fire shots and get it in for every lying shot of insulin and keep my finger itching for that finger prick
Because stupid ass, wack ass gadget that kept her finger dripping blood
Me and my moms was different in that kitchen smoking bud cause she ain't want me outside rolling them while cops is outside rolling
Couldn't see her boy behind them bars
She said 'boy, your whole life gon change behind them bars
Or sixteens or whatever yall call them, my boy's a star'
I do so much praying, I've been hurting my knees
How such a sweet lady, gets such a hurtful disease
I guess for sweet ladies, this is the perfect disease
But please don't take my mommy God, please just be her bodyguard
I'll lose it if she's gone, definitely won't be doing music while I mourn
Probably end up doing something stupid, don't respond
The thought of it got me staring at this Ruger
And guess who's the person I would use it on
You've been warned God!
I hope you listening close, you take Michelle from me
And you'll be getting us both
I know suicide is a sin, but let me grab that pound and just fire it in
Either that or stick around and die within
Or you can make her better...
Said you can make her better
Why won't you make her better, I know she can't live forever I just need a lil more time for us to play together
She my best friend

[Verse 2: Royce Da 5'9"]
I asked "was it all a dream?" at the start of this
Cause now I'm sitting inside of an Alcoholic
Anonymous meeting being the farthest thing from anonymous
I'm thinking that the game kind of ill
Seems like yesterday we signed a deal
We all signed our names on the same dollar bill and agreed it was time to kill
And then I did a project on the side with Marshall that took off and then I did a million-dollar spiral down a hill
Guess all a player that's eating can do is say his grace
And you niggas that's judging me should stay away
Cause if our roles were reversed you niggas would probably throw your soul in the dirt for a tweet from Drayaface
Niggas take you to court when they can't extort
Just cause' you came through in a Porsche they can't import
You either understand my pain or you ain't important
My nigga Joey told me "everybody changes and everybody's pain just ain't being recorded" and I thank you for it
We might as well since we never had the opportunity to do it in front of you and just thank the awards (Nigga fuck the awards)
I'm grabbing the wheel of my career in my bare hands and
Standing there while they're dancing
Resembling some shit out the good book
Spit out by the gods of rap
While they prayer answering
This ain't no braggadocio rap
This that go away and come back again
You can put loyalty in front of everything and somebody will come around you and go make that an acronym
A lot of questions I ain't answer
Mostly just n**gas crying about they finances
Bitches must be on some PCP shit
Fake pregnancy shit
Having they friend push on the EPT stick
To eat free
Uh uh, But ya'll tripping
I'm already having alcoholic withdrawal symptoms
Hands shaking too much to handshake
It was all a dream when I first started this

[Verse 3: KXNG Crooked]
All I wanted to be was the illest nigga to spit it
Live it and give it to you vivid
In exchange, I'd be the realest nigga invented
That was really a nigga's incentive to pen sentences
So all of my niggas serving pen sentences can feel it
Not just the Lou' Vuitton, red bottom rocking niggas
The top ramen pot, downtrodden, forgetten niggas
You new slaves don't get it
You cotton-picking niggas, wait a cotton picking minute
Selling out just to be a cash earner
So rap's Sojourners and rap's Nat Turners get pushed to the back burner
I'm a fast learner, I see what going on man
Yeah yeah yeah, I see what's going on
Yeah, that green shit got you weaker than Clark Kent
Banned from ya hood so you creeping in dark tint
It's secret, meanwhile the g's keep it, one hunnid
Even when sitting on more green than a park bench
This is a story about a dying culture
Hip-hop ain't dead but I can see all of the flying vultures
Art of war, this is the war of art
And your world'll be over just like the Mayans told ya
Album flopped, you can't pay your mortgage or
Watching your shit get auctioned off on Storage Wars
You forgot that you was poor before and you can't take it
Begging door to door like "Por favor?"
One hit wonders die, you was in tune
Now your future's is in a sarcophagus, entombed
End doomed, out of luck, now you handing niggas napkins at the hottest club in the men's room
They wipe they hands with your career, nigga
That's what you get cause you was in fear, nigga
Wolf tickets you was selling the youth
Dr. Cornel West said niggas die for telling the truth
And even my mama knew it
Said, "Dom don't do it
Don't want you shot up in a box, filled with embalming fluid"
I wonder if Dr. Khalid Muhammed knew it
After his brain aneurysm
He tried to save the world like Noah's ark
Cause black muhfuckas be some wack muhf-

[Outro: KXNG Crooked]
Don't stop the music!
Till I stop talking...