I blame the weather
I blame a ***** sweater
Whatever I can to stay inside
For those around I cannot confide

I've always kept to myself
For my ways are judged
Judged by sinners themselves
Who value objects above life itself

I do not follow foolish trends
Nor do I twitter an instagram of my facebook post
For I have very little friends
But my pack is ever so close

We come from the same hood
****** capitol Chicago
Land of crooks and killers
Where only real winners make real figures

Where crooked politicians and crooked cops
Make more money from thugs selling rocks
Than they do from working Chicago blocks
Have you ever heard of a more twisted paradox?

You tell me why they need the newest trucks
With the finest leather for the felon feller
A golden cell is still a cage
Where a killer lives for days as your relative lays **forever