Peace don't make me laugh!

All I hear is mother***ers rappin' succotash

Livin' large, tellin' me to get out the gang

I'm a nigga, gotta live by the trigger

How the *** do you figure?

That I can say peace and the gunshots will cease?

Every cop killer goes ignored

They just send another nigga to the morgue

A point scored- they could give a *** about us

They rather catch us with guns and white powder

If I was old, they'd probably be a friend of me

Since I'm young, they consider me the enemy

They kill ten of me to get the job correct

To serve, protect, and break a niggas neck

Cause I'm the one with the trunk of funk

And '*** tha Police' in the tape deck

You should listen to me cause there's more to see

Call my neighborhood a ghetto cause it houses minorities

The other color don't know you can run but not hide

These are tales from the darkside You wanna free Africa, I stare at yuh

Cause we ain't got it too good in America

I can't *** with them overseas

My homeboy died over a key of cocaine

It was plain and simple

The 9mm went "pop" to the temple

"pop pop pop" was the sound I put the bitch down

And ran to the schoolyard bathroom

Looked in the trash can yo it had room

So I ducked my ass in it for a minute

Covered with trash I had to lay back

Mad as ***, thinkin' about the payback

Tonight the crew gonna have a little fun

I went home and cut the barrel of my shotgun

It's gettin' critical, I stole a 5.0

I let it go, drive real slow

I yelled out 'Ice Cube sucker'

The shot-gun kicked, and it murdered mother***ers

I told you last album

When I got a sawed off, bodies are hauled off

Its a shame, that niggas die young

But to the light side it don't matter none

It'll be a drive by homicide

But to me its just another tale from the dark side Standing in the middle of war

In the middle we flex

When we die, we won't make Jet

+Ebony+ can't see to the light side

The term they apply to us is a nigga

Call it what you want, cause I'm comin' from the coroner

Sayin my rhymes with a Ph.D.

Who's black, don't wanna role, sells his soul

Watch his head go rollin'

Who the *** are they foolin'?

Nobody knows, but I suppose the color of my clothes

Matches the color of the one on my face

As they wonder whats under my waist

Standin' on the verge of them gettin' brown

That's a fact got a fear on their bozack

Run, run, run, their ass off, they can not hide