[VERSE 1]
I knew a youngster, met him at 14, a very short scene
Fiendin to make his dreams come true, but see, money was caught
mean
Started runnin wild and livin life type of foul, that was my
shorty's style
But deep down in heart he was still only a child
He was typin nice at ball, if he had height, y'all
Mighta been 'NBA Today', instead I watched his life fall
Blowin up the spots and poppin them tec glocks
Collectin street props, splittin tops, didn't stop, so many men
dropped
Started committin murder after murder
Blasted the last nigga that tried to riff so fast he flipped him
like a burger
Slipped and became the victim of his own murder hunger
He got put six feet under by a small shorty that was younger
And this type of street violence today happens too often
It hit me hard as hell to see my dog up in the coffin
People droppin a rose when the casket is closed
Hey yo, that's the name of the game out on the street, that's how
it goes
They say:
Send "For Da Brothaz" Ringtone to your Cell 