Help Me - Mac Dre, Rydah, Freako

Most of my brodies is ex cons and parolees

Drink heem and OD’s

Roll twomps and goldies

Get made from Goldie, 'cause Goldie the made man

Don’t fuck with blade men

Go hard like cavemaen

Ay man, I don’t think you understand though

I stalk the streets, with a Colt Commando

A Thug and a vandal, a walkin' scandal

Drink like ten fishes, smoke like candles

Pistol grip handle on the riot 12 gauge

Keep the rollers off me and out the jail cage

Got a twelve page letter from my folks in the rally’s

He got caught up in a riot and they shipped him outta Cali

Omaha, Texas, Leavenworth, Kansas

They got us spread out, I don’t know where my mans is

But it’s like this, I don’t complain

'Cause I knew about the game when I hopped in the thang

Lord, can you hear me?

Too many niggas dying

Living Cutthoat but they trying

Lord, you gots to help me

I know sometimes they wrong

Keep my niggas strong

Listen, I been walking the line

Piercing the wire, stepping with my chin up

Woke or sleep, my lids never shut

Protected but rapists stay PC’d up

Escorted by badges and handcuffs

Billy clubs and face shields to storm your cell

Search your locker, thirty days in lock up

From reminiscing with my celly, pretending

We daydreaming of flying, we high

Eternal freedom, but we paid the price for living this life

We cry inside, but only cold stares for the naked eye

A young boy with mafia ties, so while inside

The bricks and fences, got every tear stitched up

With coke and black pinheads twisted in zigzags

Watching time pass, 'cause I ain’t got nothing but time

Writing invisible lines on lined paper

But being secluded made my rhymes greater

So I stick to my music, song after song

I might make a hit over the phone

Hello?

Lord, can you hear me?

Too many niggas dying

Living Cutthoat but they trying

Lord, you gots to help me

I know sometimes they wrong

Keep my niggas strong

'92, '93, hit a lick, split a key

Flossin' on chips and spit a clip, the game was fun to me

It didn’t take me long to see it wouldn’t last though

How else can my cash grow?

Without the J team and task force coming to ask for me

I’m moving too fast, homie

I wish you would’ve got over the gate and I escaped with the cash, homie

But I’ll bust my gun to avoid the pen

We was young lights when you went it

But changed from boys to men, be home at 10

Do that, and come home, that ain’t no place for a player

Can’t make no money, ain’t no bitches in there, but life ain’t fair

But your world don’t stop, you gotta keep keep on

We pueblo no matter what street we on, the streets we roam

That’s why I ain’t wrote you when in here

But I’ll see you when I see you

If not, then when they lock the rider in

Then tough love, one thug

Issue a slug to that snitch nigga

Finish where we left off, I’mma get rich nigga

Lord, can you hear me?

Too many niggas dying

Living Cutthoat but they trying

Lord, you gots to help me

I know sometimes they wrong

Keep my niggas strong