Niggas

[Verse Thurzday]
Hate calling my brothers (niggas)
But the niggas love it
Some of my niggas kill and won't think nothing of it
Some (niggas) slang mothers with baby in stomach
(niggas) Some good and some ugly
Some are house (niggas)
And send most smile for money
Some will fuck their niggas girl colder than nose runny
Some (niggas) smoke rocks, some got a wicked jump shot
Many run blocks and end up in the pine box
Boxed in, [so?] [condition?] of race
Thinking they handicap because of the color of they face
(niggas) That's worse than clan lynchings
Some of my niggas be too high off pride, tripping
Thinking they dig [mitch?], thinking [they/ of?] [O.H.?]
[And every other nigga side ironed and sway?] [?] ?
So how you [?]
Unchain a mad beast, got no time to preach
But still, this is for my (niggas)

Hate calling my brothers
Brother niggas love it
Some thirty years old and got no goals
Other got kids and won't scrap when they hit it
And known for a visit with a bitch up in the a clinic
They hit the club the same night, looking for new [petty?]
[Would of?] walked the same shoes if I gave my girl abortion money
I was on my young wild shit, drinking like I got an extra liver, nigga shit
You know young, hard head dudes don't bend
Think they ball players, until the end
[Tell them, friend, [[why there's?]] different shoes?]
Got different views, and their upbringing tells what they pursue
Some got a silver spoon, expected to not fumble
With school as the hustle, and a scholarship huddles
So when you hear hike, you're running for your freedom
Or fighting like gladiators in Roman Colosseum

Hate calling my brothers
But fuck it, when I talk that nigga shit, yeah some of the hoes love it
And Tip said we use it as a term of endearment
But it came up out the south chained on that disease ship
When it come up out your mouth, how we changing the context
Many years constricted living, adopted hood accents
Conforming to religion, thinking Jesus eyes' blue
We focus on Nikes, and processed hairdos
Jealous of the next man sitting on rims, plotting murder
Plotting like Kane, robbing niggas for cheeseburgers
Confined by what you think, then you'll act how you think
And you're only entertainer for the master
Made to believe that we're all just (nigga)
Stripped from our gold, enslaved as cotton-pickers
More than entertainers, dope-dealers and ballplayers
Fuck being a (nigga)
I'd rather be a king
For my (niggas)