Cradle 2 Tha Grave

Probation just raided my house, so I'm out
Really curious on what it was about
Cause i have no violations, I swore I checked in
Unless I tested positive for Juice and Gin
Then again, my baby momma really wants me locked
I'm checkin on my son while she callin the cops
Ain't no Glock in my whip, I ain't sellin dope to kids
My past gets me caught up, again and again
I wish I grew up in the suburbs
I wish my father had worn a rubber
I wish I recognized the under covers
And I wish that life ain't a muthafucka
I been sober for the past few months, I know I'm good
My names getting brought up at meetings in the hood
Cause i stepped to the back, I gave my mom a heart attack
Where's the ambition I lack

Creepin on the low
I wish they didn't know
Told me it's fasho
The opps are gonna blow
I know, I can't hide
It ain't about the dough
I know, I can't try
Outside it's really cold

Ran from the police, posted at the homies house
Been bangin since the age of 15, I think they know me now
Niggas from the other side ain't seen me in a few days
Driving my caprice, think I'm too paid
I gotta steal 40s from the other markets
Blacked out in another hood, I don't know where I parked it
I see no 22s shining, who is on the loose
Down on mission ave, couple niggas in a coupe
Dont recognize the whip, therefore I keep my distance
Whistle from the back of me, I had to stop and listen
Only saw the flashes the pistols, as I bled
I knew these niggas set me up, aint in my head
I must've never paid attention where it matters
My scattered, thoughts in my brain since they saw that I'm a rapper
Wanna take my credibility as ugly as it gets
The streets got a hold of my until there's nothing left

Creepin on the low
I wish they didn't know
Told me it's fasho
The opps are gonna blow
I know, I can't hide
It ain't about the dough
I know, I can't try
Outside it's really cold