Chorus (x1)

Time Is Short And My Life Is Sick

That's How It Is Man Look At This Shit

You Get Abused By Street Platoons

Hit You Like Wind And What-cha Gonna Do?

We Break Circles Of Enemies Blocks

Get Shot With Defeat

They Say No Drive-by's On The Street

So Mutha-fuckas Run Rival Sweeps



Sick Platoons Flood The Streets Of Los

Like A Sick Typhoon

Mutha-fuckas Drive By World Wide

And Everybody You And I Know Dies

The Only Guarantee In Life Is Death

Your Last Breath

Come When Your Famo Least Expect It

Soldier Run Wild In Your Song

Red Dawn Strikes Your Back In Dead 'nam

Your Mind's Flipping But The Scene's Dead Calm

And Your Whole World's Thrown

And Wrapped In Psyclone

Alright Ride Through The City Like That

Pants, T-shirts Are Creased And Stole Gats

La Undercover Shoot To Kill

Child Of The Streets Run Wild In War Fields

Scheming On Pigs That Start Shit

Guilty Treat Us All Dirty Filthy



The Streets Are Flooded

With Budded Corrupted Minds Running

Those Who Can't Cut It

Leave The Hoodlum Studded Ghetto

Wondering What Is

The Excuse Or Reason For High Treason

In Blasting Season Leaving

One Of Your Color Bleeding

Repeating Never Stopping Body Dropping'

Hood Rocking Window Glocking Zone Shocking

Defending Pavement Attacking,

Facing Arraignment

Jail's Enslavement Shackled For Justice

To The Plaintiff

When The Charges Stick That's It

You Get Hit With Some Bid

For What You Did Prevent And Rid Some Kid

Of His Chance To Live

Cause Of The Block He Lives In

Not Giving A Fuck Just Trying To Win

Your Block Ribbon

Glock Driven Joining Street Platoons

Like It's Some Fashion

Going Out Of Style So You Catch It

For Some Action

It's No Joke Homeboys Get Smoked,

Poked, 'cause They Provoke

Locked On Dope No Hope For Growth

That's Why We're Broke

Short Pocket Street Criminals

Fail To Lock