Chorus //
So you're living your life, trying to be right /
Chasing the game but losing your life /
Don't you know that you are special (I know you hear me kid)
Special (I know you hear me) /
Take your time to grow and be wise /
Educate your mind in the right things /
Don't you know that you are special, (I know you hear me kid) special

Verse One //
I am that son of gun who gets you thinking bout' life /
While thinking about mics, I'm thinking about my rights /
My right to speak freely, without the influence of fucking TV's
Magazines, the Internet and BB /
I spray it just like graffiti on the walls of hood /
Where shorty's is smеlling weedy, probably up to no good /
Police cars patrolling for some property that's stolеn /
While them Spliffs keep rolling, nigga's burn em' like wood /
Bitches'll turn snitches when a woman is scorned /
The Drug Kings fuck with Bishops and the Bishops the Pawns /
The Pawns are the first to prison, now awaiting release /
With no game plan so probably gonna' return to the streets /
And do it over, the only change is that they getting older /
Their heart is getting colder like the weather in October /
Nobody can wake early and people ain't trustworthy /
Now half of the neighbourhood is acting like they seven-thirty /
It's crazy, is this the place you happen to live? /
Where young kids spit saliva right in front of your crib /
And when you catch em' red handed, try and put em' in place /
And all they got for you’s a cheeky fucking smirk on they face /
And no apology because that ain't the way they were raised /
The only thing that really matters is to smoke and get paid yo' /
Sometimes the hood is like the blade of a knife /
It got you feeling like somebody fucking stole your life

Chorus //

Verse Two //
With most of your time spent on merely trying to make the rent /
Some crooks'll do your books for only twenty-five percent /
And broke becomes a mind state mirrored in reality /
With pictures of fatalities but never in a gallery /
Hand to mouth living from what's hardly called a salary /
But most times it seems just like you live some kind of fallacy /
With people living callously, you'll never be a Majesty /
The world around you feels like it's a fucking travesty /
And friends ain't friends no more /
Cos' these bitches don't wanna' come around the ends no more /
Take a twenty from you and paying back a ten and no more /
And nobody seeing you wearing fresh denim no more /
And everything remains a secret you ain't telling no more /
You want your Neighbours to be quiet, don’t be yelling no more /
And all them Drug Dealers, you don’t want them selling no more /
Don’t wanna' be associated with no felons no more yo' /
Not everybody living like this /
And in comparison some people probably living quite bliss /
But this is for my peeps in the hood /
For everyone without a voice and feeling misunderstood /
And can't see a way out so living every day out a glass box /
And waiting for the lottery to pay out /
Sometimes the hood is like the blade of a knife /
And got you feeling like somebody fucking stole your life… uh!

Chorus //

Outro //
Brothers killing other brothers /
I thought the idea was to love one another /
Switch on the T.V. to one more death /
If they keep this up then who the heck'll be left? /
So I try my best to set an example /
Saying hype lyrics over breaks and samples /
But not just to brag or to boast but to inform /
Cos' I wanna' see the calm and not the storm (echo)