Neighborhood Watch

[Paris]
 You can keep fightin, or you can go home
 You can keep tryin, or get rolled on
 I'm keep ridin, cause when the funk is on
 Most of these so called rebels ain't got they phones on
 So I turn to the killers and the gangbangers
 Teach 'em how change, doin the same thang
 Show a loc how to love himself
 And how self-hate make you wanna slug yourself
 Introduce him to the enemy that enemy made
 And how the evil made 'em murder for the clique that he claim
 When I see it all click in his brain
 I put an clip in his hand and tell 'em c'mon, it's women to save
 You a young black warrior, raised in a battlefield
 Some say soldier, trained with a strap to kill
 But it ain't no good if all you think about
 is shootin up the area, blacks chill and that's real
 [Chorus]
 Time to leave the wrong for right
 Gotta make a change in my life
 Shake all the stress and strife
 And gain wealth with knowledge of self, baby
 Settle down and raise a fam
 And know about that master plan
 That's why we gotta understand
 Nobody looking out for us but us, true baby
 [Paris]
 History and time have proved nobody cares
 If you live life cool or you die but you
 You ride for me homie I'ma ride for you
 Long as you understand who you bring the violence to
 If you hard enough to murder for malt liquor and mean mugs
 Mash on these bitch-ass cops who bring teens drugs
 And politicians who pass laws that don't do shit
 Keepin streets corrupt, keepin us stuck
 and trapped in that hell hole
 I know the reason of the reason for the reason which your mind bases hell on
 You ain't gotta call hell home if you think
 twice 'bout smokin a brother for gettin his mail on
 Let me guess, you ain't workin for the white man
 Who you think you workin for sellin white, man?
 They lend you yayo, send you to jail
 The hard truth of it spells the intent to fail, might as well
 [Chorus]
 [Paris]
 Real G's know the drama
 From being nine years old seein five-oh, feelin all on your momma
 Smacked her hard, threw her in the back of the car
 For some outta date tags on the car
 That's hard, real crips know the real shit
 Livin with ya granny cause ya daddy and never callin or give shit
 So of course the anger from the pain just might be the blame
 for niggaz that get they wig split
 Real bloods know it's hard to feel love
 If daddy was there but he threatened to kill us
 And while we did homework, he just did drugs
 Of course I'ma flash red rags and give it up, nigga
 Punk police, deadbeat daddies and crack
 are the reason many hated bein black
 It's time to rise up, open your eyes up
 To the people who created the trap and hate that
 Take that