Where do thugs go? Who do they run to? Where do they call home? Not a house that they go to, but a place where they feel belonged How do they cope with the scarcity of love?
Thugs, not the kind that most women think they are attracted to; therefore, not the imposers Not the kind who landed at the bottom of the hill, sliding from the top only to scrape off their rot Not the ones who were born with all the right people in their corners, but boxed them off while trying to fight to be someone that they are not
Thugs, the ones who momma loves? Because he appreciates her worthiness, her works She's the only real love he ever had since birth Thugs; who can't really go places because trouble doubles It multiplies whenever he is with his guys Because they all know how it feel not to live under a roof Neither one of them have anything to lose His dudes are equal to himself cubed They rely on one another like proofs And they are radical from the roots Living in a negative atmosphere trying to multiply it by itself So that they can make it to where the grass is greener and the sun does shine The other side of the number line Where the gunfire and homicides are divided And the dope is reduced All their lives they have been thinking that they are enduring the truth That they "cannot amount to nothing and cannot be put to use"
They are neck deep in the streets And the authorities is at their throats like a crew But nothing around them is cotton So when their fingers symbolizes a "V" they are only representing the place where they have to be And they are not weak, but sometimes they wishes that they can take off a week
Black cats can't chase yarn Mexicans don't have a specific day for casual dressing Asians don't get any waivers Cubans can't take less hours for a semester of schooling Haitians don't get vacations
The **** life is given Difficult to make it As it is to escape it It's hard to deal When all they know is reeling in deals To people who are saltier than Dill's While at the same time trying to act real... Kosher Without a companion to share meals... How do they find closure? Too busy being tyrannical Never learned how to be grammatical So **** just got "worser" Interviewee for a job Or being suave to a child's mom Besides their eyes, Their oration is just exposure Not knowing their duration to exist on this surface Thugs need love It's hard to tell through his mean-mug But he's hurting