Lyrics The System - SPM

This One's for those on the dead end street
Hustlin' hard to make all they ends meet
I hope one day I see yo' benz creep
Watch for the jealousy that most friends keep
S.P. got the Bentley
All I can do is thank god cause he blessed me
I used to be just like you
Slangin' crack rock on the avenue
Packin' glocks & runnin' from cops
Most of my clients like they cane on the rocks
Gun shots like 2 blocks away
I wonder who the fuck caught a hot one today
Never mind cause I don't wanna know
I just lost 2 good friends in the row
One second things is lookin' beautiful
The next second you can start off the funeral.

All my friends are in the dead end street
Some locked up & some are RIP
You can't win there ain't no way no how
Clock your change & get the fuck on out.

We was Pirex shakers
Sunny Side money makers
In Hillwood we had rocks big as now & laters
Quick snappers the store where we slung at
Everybody knew me for my hundred packs
Across the street was law elementry
My car was so clean kids was lookin' up to me
They wanna be like me a true hustla
Cause they daddy drives an old gas guzzla
The dope dealer I ain't tryin' to brag
But fuck watchin' roaches tryin' to climb out of my bath tub
I was a hard head tryin' to be a drug lord
Slow my roll nah homey what the fuck for
I'm in the 2 bed trailor man I'm dirt poor
When hurricanes would come I'd run next door
To my homies house his name is Huet Hodges
We gonna make out this ghetto man I promise.

All my friends are in the dead end street
Some locked up & some are RIP
You can't win there ain't no way no how
Clock your change & get the fuck on out.

99% of all criminals & dope dealers
Get busted by bullets or fuckin' squealers
& The 1% that made it was pure luck
But even he'll tell that his life ain't worth a fuck
Cause in his mind he was caught a thousand times
& In his mind he was shot a thousand times
Without peace there can be no happyness
I wear a cross around my neck like the catholics
I'm not sure exaclty what my religion is
I just know I thank god for my little kids
This is the baddest sellin' drugs like some guinea pigs
Then they arrest us after we done make it big
They take our money our cars & our houses
Now tell me who's really sellin' the ounces
& Any cash that we might have hidden
Goes to The System tryin' to stay out of prison.

All my friends are in the dead end street
Some locked up & some are RIP
You can't win there ain't no way no how
Clock your change & get the fuck on out.