[Verse One]
  Whattup kid? I know shit is rough doing your bid
  When the cops came you shoulda slid to my crib
  Fuck it black, no time for looking back it's done
  Plus congratulations you know you got a son
  I heard he looks like you, why don't your lady write you?
  Told her she should visit, that's when she got hyper
  Flippin, talk about he acts too rough
  He didn't listen he be riffin' while I'm telling him stuff
  I was like yeah, shorty don't care, she a snake too
  Fucking with the niggaz from that fake crew that hate you
  But yo, guess who got shot in the dome-piece?
  Jerome's niece, on her way home from Jones Beach - it's bugged
  Plus little Rob is selling drugs on the dime
  Hangin out with young thugs that all carry 9's
  at night time there's more trife than ever
  Whattup with Cormega, did you see 'em, are y'all together?
  If so then hold the fort down, represent to the fullest
  Say whassup to Herb, Ice and Bullet
  I left a half a hundred in your commisary
  You was my nigga when push came to shove
  One what? one love
    [Verse Two]
  Dear Born, you'll be out soon, stay strong
  Out in New York the same shit is goin on
  the crack-heads stalking, loud-mouths is talking
  hold, check out the story yesterday when i was walking
  the nigga you shot last year tried to appear like he hurtin' something
  word to mother, i heard him fronting
  and he be pumping on your block
  your man gave him your glock
  and now they run together, what up son, whatever
  since I'm on the streets I'ma put it to a cease
  but I heard you blew a nigga with a ox for the phone piece
  Whylin on the Island, but now with Elmira
  better chill cause them niggaz will put that ass on fire
  Last time you wrote you said they tried you in the showers
  but maintain when you come home the corner's ours
  On the reels, all these crab niggaz know the deal
  When we start the revolution all they probably do is squeal
  But chill, see you on the next V-I
  I gave your mom dukes loot for kicks, plus sent you flicks
  Your brother's buck whylin' in four maine he wrote me
  he might beat his case, 'til he come home I play it low key
  so stay civilised, time flies
  though incarcerated your mind (dies)
  I hate it when your mum cries
  it kinda wants to make me murder, for real-a
  I've even got a mask and gloves to bust slugs for one love
    [Verse Three]
  Sometimes I sit back with a buddha sack
  mind's in another world thinking how can we exist through the facts
  written in school text books, bibles, et cetera
  Fuck a school lecture, the lies get me vexed-er
  So I be ghost from my projects
  I take my pen and pad for the week
  and hittin nails while I'm sleepin
  A two day stay, you may say I need the time alone
  to relax my dome, no phone, left the 9 at home
  You see the streets have me stressed somethin terrible
  Fuckin with the corners have a nigga up in Bellevue
  or h.d.m., hit with numbers from 8 to 10
  a future in a maximum state pen is grim
  So I comes back home, nobody's helpin shorty doo-wop
  Rollin two phillies together in the Bridge we called 'em oowops
  He said, "Nas, niggaz could be bustin' off the roof
  so I wear a bullet proof and pack a black tres-deuce"
  He inhaled so deep, shut his eyes like he was sleep
  Started coughing when I peeked to watch me speak
  I sat back like the mack, my army suit was black
  We was chillin' on these bitches where he pumped his loose cracks
  I took an l when he passed it, this little bastard
  keeps me blasted he starts talkin mad shit
  I had to school him, told him don't let niggaz fool him
  'cos when the pistol blows that's when a murder be the cool one
  Tough luck when niggaz are struck, families fucked up
  could've cought your man, but didn't look when you bucked up
  Mistakes happen, so take heed never bust up
  if the crowd catch him solo, make the right man bleed
  shorty's laugh was cold blooded as he spoke so foul
  Only twelve trying to tell me that he liked my style
  Then I rose, wiping the blunts ash from my clothes
  then froze only to blow the herb smoke through my nose
  and told my little man that i'm a go cyprose
  there's some jewels in the skull that he can sell if he chose
  words of wisdom from nas try to rise up above
  keep an eye out for jake shorty what
  one love