being here in america doesn t make you an american being born here in america doesn t make you an american i see america through the eyes of the victim i don t see any american dream i see an american nightmare power to the people we got more crack in the ghetto than they could grow in columbia put this shit right in front of ya this is america we got more guns in the hood than soldiers out on the line see hustlers out on they grind how you get rich in america and we all just tryin to make it all around the world for those who never mistake it ain t no place like america and your pride get hard to swallow when everything controlled by that all mighty dollar we don t fear god in america okay the sun rise from the east the west marked by the beast the crime rate in my city still risin like yeast my young homie said fuck school and hit the block i try to tell him be thankful for the shit you got cause ain t nobody gon do nothin for you they gave the ghetto dope to hang ourselves then kick the bucket for you still throwin rocks at the pen full of dope spot my homie just got out and locked up again cause ain t no discipline speakin frankly it s all about the benjamins more chiefs than indians that s why i just be playin my part keep doin my thing thing my phone like a telethon it always go ring ring my hands cash registered they always go ching ching call me joe blow cause i m smokin that mean green gotta stay high to deal with all these characters cash rules everything all over america na nigga we tryin to ball nigga bullets ejecting enter give him a hot winter from a nobody nigga to top tener to bitches givin head just hopin that i remember obama lied ain t see shit changed the cocaine came with no shame we does our thing my gang go bang his blog be the same her block be the same i just might get rid of that range and cop me a plane i m ghetto fabulous not corporate but nigga rich jesus christ can t believe this shit the pistol on me make me feel grave ya man murked could make you feel hate a murder squad get the god couldn t help me with the bills i pay so i m stealin the collection plate prayed to him guess he answered late on my knees just tired of tryin to get his attention so fuck it i m back to bitchin everybody on welfare nobody got healthcare war goin on right here the president well aware come through your city but won t visit the ghetto there we in our own world from california to delaware the black market yeah the hood be arrangin how the prices be inflatin all the goods we exchangin to be doctor was my earlier plan til experience let me know i had the world in my hand now i got so many girls in my pants don t know if they reachin for me or the jacksons and grams i see my fans they all happen to ask young bo when you gon put the game back in the trance i m like i m on it i m on it you see how i be doin it i feel it then i record it sound the same when i m performing to tell the truth the crack game was never boring bet they ll be the best memories we talk about tourin 1