[Hook]
People die in, ride by in
People cry in, everyday
In my city, my city, in my city
People die in, ride by in
People cry in, everyday
In my city, my city, in my city

[Talib Kweli]
They hustle, they grind and they chussle
They struggle, they fight
They muscle they way to the top
No sobbin, no crying
They put they fire in the poest
And flowin they rhymin
They writing, they focused
They know that they glowing, they shining
Sub doping, they open, they loaking, they smokin
They dranking
They hope to be sanging the ball
And that’s all that you think?
They ripin off your chain they trippin and creepin
They banging
They throwing up flames, dippin, they flippin, they slangin
They claimin blocks that they don’t own and die for em
They taking shots enduring pain so we writing for em
To make em stop for a second cause everyone hurt
If I can give them a record, I’d give them one verse
I try to inspire, they survivin, not living
You can’t make a prediction, the future’s not written
Although I’m not a physician I try to stop and listen
It’s like we got a condition
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