[Intro: Phonte]
For all the ones who lost too soon
One, two
One, two
[Verse 1: Phonte]
Got my hands high in the air
But this is not a concert, it's a sign of despair
No I'm not a monster, I'm just out of my head
It's like a jungle sometimes
Make me wonder how I keep from going under
With the lions and tigers and bears
Enough to make a cyborg break out into tears
It is not as it appears, they think we all crazy
Just unruly niggas and tar babies
But what if these fuck ass Officer Barbradys
Was killing y'all babies?
And the cost of your life was less than a dog's maybe
You'd probably call some of your boys that had an itch
To go out hunting for that something pop up out that bitch
Like, go ahead and drop it, nothing you do can stop it
Please don't knock it cause my pocket still in that Doberman pinch
Anything from candy to cigarettes can get a nigga killed
But I'll be honest man I'm running out of shit to feel
I ain't tryna tell my biz
But I got the blues and I watch the news
Like nigga what the fuck I'm 'posed to tell my kids?
So fuck your city ordinance, this is for the flourishing
So hot in the air and that’s word to West Florissant
You seem to keep 'em shooting, bring the chorus in
For real
For all the ones who lost too soon
One, two
One, two
[Verse 1: Phonte]
Got my hands high in the air
But this is not a concert, it's a sign of despair
No I'm not a monster, I'm just out of my head
It's like a jungle sometimes
Make me wonder how I keep from going under
With the lions and tigers and bears
Enough to make a cyborg break out into tears
It is not as it appears, they think we all crazy
Just unruly niggas and tar babies
But what if these fuck ass Officer Barbradys
Was killing y'all babies?
And the cost of your life was less than a dog's maybe
You'd probably call some of your boys that had an itch
To go out hunting for that something pop up out that bitch
Like, go ahead and drop it, nothing you do can stop it
Please don't knock it cause my pocket still in that Doberman pinch
Anything from candy to cigarettes can get a nigga killed
But I'll be honest man I'm running out of shit to feel
I ain't tryna tell my biz
But I got the blues and I watch the news
Like nigga what the fuck I'm 'posed to tell my kids?
So fuck your city ordinance, this is for the flourishing
So hot in the air and that’s word to West Florissant
You seem to keep 'em shooting, bring the chorus in
For real
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