Woke Up Dead

Last night I had a dream that I woke up dead

A motherfucker put some money on my head

Cold sweat, wide awake in my bed

I guess I shoulda took my meds

I'm so sedated, self medicated

Hoping that the threats on my life are never predicated

If this is the price of fame, I should've hesitated

I don't wanna die in the streets, I'm too educated

Type of shit you need a vest for

Type of shit that can't be fixed with high test scores

Getting pressed more, as the fame builds

But my shrink keep prescribing me the same pills

Can't kill a motherfucker just for lookin' at me

Even though I know his ass is plottin' when he lookin' at me

Statute of limitations on a murder is

Non-existent. If I hit him, I'll be serving years

This morning I woke up dead

Comatose, two shots to the head

Finally got me, that's what they said

This morning I woke up dead

For years I've been having dreams that I get shot

Then them niggas go runnin' up the block

Me and Terry just chillin' at the spot

They pull up in the cutlass, start bustin', then I drop

Start running, I collapse on the corner

Neighbors start yellin', somebody call the coroner

Standing over me, blood on my denim

Kinda like Omar did Snoop when he hit 'em

Wreath wrapped up in blue ribbon

Nobody at the funeral, knew that I was Crippin'

Well I'm not, but on the block, who isn't?

If you kick it on the spot, then it don't make a difference

You can get shot just because you with 'em

And every cop thinkin' you fit the description

Gettin' older as my life get's shorter

Livin' with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

I asked my mama not to move up out the hood

She fucked around and she moved to Inglewood

And to her, everything is all good

'Cause she doesn't understand, if she never understood

Niggas lookin' at me all crazy

I'm standing on the corner with my baby

Ready for whatever, 'cause that's how the streets made me

Ain't a fuckin' thing changed in this city since the '80s