My grandma had a son, my mother's only brother
My only uncle by blood didn't like to listen
And only done what he want, was out here like his niggas
His homie high-key had hooked up a mission
They was getting it, running that digit up
Late '80s in Brooklyn had niggas thugging
People killing right outside, baggin' us up
The only way to not pass by was not give no fuck
Get higher than and fight back fire, that feel of suffering
Realer, so they saw drug dealing as an eruption
Of niggas getting rich as shit and now feel adjusted
Funny how where it's at isn't that big a jump
The ceiling was a floor, as real as that feeling was
Money, power, respect isn't as real as love
But niggas got to get that skrilla, that bill adds up
You might wanna give back to, yeah, yeah, yeah
My grandma had a son, my mother's only brother
My only uncle by blood didn't like to listen
And only done what he want, was out here like his niggas
His homie high-key had hooked up a mission
They was getting it, running that digit up
One night in like '93 selling that good
They ain't like the price, like plug, tried the right one
A gunfight ignite, light three, candlelight vigil
They hit his man, he stayed with him 'cause he not budging
Crying for his man like, "Please, brother, get up"
The opps spun it back, light him right in that muffin
Took a nigga lights, but he ain't die, he had luck
My grandma was his moms and she ain't handle that good
Screaming prayers to God and reading that book
Womb to the sandbox, stand clean of that judge
The judge see you once, he done, we in that dungeon
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