Yo to my people doing time, Xzibit, Juvenile, y'all need to
bring the heat.
Look, I'm inhumane livin' in this house of pain
stuck with a thousand street hustlers
down on they luck
Repeat felons caught up with the death I was sellin'
and for the past three months yo I can still hear my victims yellin'
but I can't listen to my conscience it's nonsense
if I didn't shoot I'd be the nigga in the suit in the box under the ground
fox chased by the hound locked permanent frown Xzibit get down
by liftin' iron by the pound for the tough individual
runnin' run his mouth throw some hands with the General
walk one day in the shoes of a criminal
death disease keep your luxuries to a minimal
I'm not talkin' about weed, jewels,