Pain - King Just

There’s one brain

There’s two halves to one brain

One half’s the pen, the other half’s a steel

Check the story

Pain, yo, is all I feel

I’mma die wit my pen, or I’mma die wit my steel

A young shorty on the block, wit no props

Fightin every day, turn the pot, and crackin beer top

In the hallway, gettin fucked up, everyday

You ever thought about goin to school?

No way

I always thought I’d be a big rap star

Drive fancy cars and travel like far

Aha, dream didn’t come true, now it’s 1982

So what the hell you want me to do?

I wanna sell drugs and hang wit the thugs

From the projects, and own a nickel plated tech

But yet, I still got the skill to rock the crowd

I guess rappin should just be style

But now, I can’t take it no more

I’m ready to get my gat and tell you face down to floor

Give me what you got, nigga, shit is real

I’mma die wit my pen, or I’mma die wit my steel

So damn confused, this life just don’t seem the same

Kids on the smelly court, playin the ghetto games

I reminisce about the shit that I did

You couldn’t be soft and live where I lived

Cuz only the strong survive, and the weak die

Well ain’t that a bitch, oh, my, my, my

Momma, why I gotta be like that?

Face the fact, I want the respect of my ghetto back

So I dig deep cuz I got a lot to give

As the world turns, but only one life to live

So come on my children, let’s start rebuildin

A new foundation for every man’s nation

I try to make a stand, but every stand’s a downfall

I sat on the bench while other kids played ball

It’s not the fact that I lack athletic

I’d rather grab a pen and pad, and get poetic

Bow, boom, bang, same to the '90's

Two-Six Mob, nigga, that’s where you’ll find me

Down wit Black Fist, now, my promo’s on Kiss

And everybody around town want’s to talk shit

I guess that’s the way life goes, I guess no one knows

Yo, we all choose our own roads

So you choose yours, and I’mma choose mine

Who knows, we just might make it at the same time

Define, yo, the meanin of jealously

And I show you a hundred rappers that can’t fuck wit me

True, so what’s the moral to the story?

The God is on his way to glory, but yet there’s more G

I became that nigga to the cess

My lifestyle change and now it’s headed to the West

I guess, I have to do some shows out there

But when I appear, the crowd shook wit fear

Yo, I can’t die wit my steel

I got a career now, to make at the top of my field

So you ask, how does the story end?

One love to Shaolin, we gotta die wit our pen

Yo this is a message from the God

Dreams come true only if you make 'em happen

One love to Shaolin