Young Ed in the end

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Yeeeah
The (?) is back in this muthafucka
From 96 onto infinity
Now all you niggas on (?)
Scared of death, nigga
And this is on the real
Cause we killas
And this is the end
Will I die with my eyes open wide in the sky?
Five cries from a tec, leave me paralyzed on the steps
Will I be broke, or stackin' from this rappin'?
Or will I sell dope, get smoked and dumped in a trashcan
The last stand of a pimp with a dent left in his brim
Dug by the grim reap from his trench
In a sense, I feel the end closin' in
Holdin' the double-M direct from the crypt
Keeper, that wants to put Young Ed to sleep, cuz
All the dirt did murkin when I creep up
Will I leave the world with a grudge
And no love for the hate and creatin set trippin, and dumpin slugs
They say we thugs that will never get no buff
Ghetto madness, the sadness has us in a struggle
To hustle and bubble, where is the love
For a young nigga to stay outta trouble
I guess there's none as I run from the Devil
Who's tryin'a catch me with sexy temptations from his level
Gunshots echo all through the San Fransick
And more die from the Northside, the village of the lunatics
Niggas say peace, but playa do you really mean it?
They say it's allright on the other side but I've never seen it
I guess they dreamin, or fiendin for fantasy
But I can't fantasize cause I thrive on reality
Gradually it's my crime to get mine
It's my time to stack and when I die, that time still won't stop
I roll with hards cause the softs get tossed
This is the cartel from Young Cel to Baldhead, I'm on the Daft
Lives get lost when shots from 25 Glocks let loose
Black man and moose from the Hill, real and quick to shoot
Will I stack loot or smoke so much my lunges pollute?
And kill me slow, joint in my hand can't stand that I (?)
I just ain't so cause death can creep up like a ghost
And push you over the edge cause edge just little close
And most niggas like that get smoked
I guess I'm best to back up and stack up or wind up smoked
Real hard to cope with haters out here tryina slit your throat
To get your dough and leave you dead off on skidrow
You didn't know? Well, hold on cause that time is coming
We reap what we sow from smokin blunts and pullin guns and
Startin funk when punks (?) so comprehend on how you go
Cause you never know until the end (Hahaha!)

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