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Corner I stood lookin at my former hood Felt the spirit in the wind, knew my friend was gone for good Threw dirt on the casket, the hurt, I couldn't mask it Mixin down emotions, struggle I hadn't mastered I coreograph seven steps to heaven And hell, waiting to exhale and make the bread leavened Veteran of a cold war It's Chica-I-go for What I know or, what's known So some days I take the bus home, just to touch home From the crib I spend months gone Sat by the window with a clutched dome listenin to shorties cuss long Young girls with weak minds, but they butt strong Tried to call, or at least beep the Lord, but didn't have a touc

"Give me the fortune, keep the fame," said my man Louis I agreed, know what he mean because we live the truest lie I asked him why we follow the law of the bluest eye He looked at me, he thought about it Was like, "I'm clueless, why?" The question was rhetorical, the answer is horrible Our morals are out of place and got our lives full of sorrow And so tomorrow comin later than usual Waitin' on someone to pity us While we findin beauty in the hideous They say money's the root of all evil but I can't tell YouknowhatImean, pesos, francs, yens, cowrie shells, dollar bills Or is it the mindstate that's ill? Creating crime rates to fi