I am addicted to the street life,
The street girls that wont make a wife,
The head lights flashing in my eyes,
The tall ****** having glossy waxed thighs;
I am accustomed to the police chase,
The constant fear of sitting in one place,
The drugs and smell of cigar-**** in the air,
And the disgust in the eyes of passers-by as they stare;
I am acquainted to the quick cash for fancy cars,
The possible bullet wounds and permanent scars,
The big booties in the clubs across the street,
And the VIP seats that usually comes with it;
I crave for the knife fights and gang wars,
The fake ideas that i will die for a just course,
The hijacked lamborgini i wil bring to grandma,
The idea that "******" in my neighbourhood will call me master;
Indeed i am fooled by what i see in music videos,
The gangsters turned musicians acting in these videos,
Who end up broke,shattered and in dismay,
Naa, i will stick to the deligence that brings the good pay.
