If could recollect before my hood days,
I'd seat and reminisce on the bliss of my good days,
Life in the ghetto with my homie,
Though we used to be less holly.
We started with nothing,
But our dreams so big,
Tried to do anything that would bring cash,
Even didn't hesitate to dig the tunnels.
We never had much,
We understood that we came from the hood,
And we gotta hustle to get food,
Forever balling to make out life good.
We rolled on the streets,
Sometimes slept on cold without sheets,
But life in the ghetto,
Only fit the strongest survivors.
A sudden twist on things,
Our army tried to overthrow the government,
The city was a mess,
I heard bullets spilling from submachine guns.
My homie was in town,
I got myself stressed up,
Didn't saw him for a day,
When I saw it on the news, it was a cry of the innocent.
I saw my homie's body wrapped in plastic,
The picture getting clear and so tragic,
When I sleep at night, I see his face,
Smiling like he used to, but I can't see him physically.
The years fade bad the memories stays,
Everytime I get happiness,
Something drove me back,
'Cause I can't escape these memories of the past.