He was a youngster, born 'n raised in the suburbs//
Mom was on crack, nobody to change the kids diapers//
Livin in the ghetto, the capital of murders//
Never had a daddy, he got shot being a burgler//
But was better than him leaving him willingly, less hurtfull//
What was a innocent baby face with pure brown eyes//
Already saw more pain than most in a year, in the span of a sunrise////
At around age 10, his mom died, crack overdose//
But this was just normal, all his friends folks passed, well most//
Met a guy named Pimp M Dub, on the corner of his street//
Said he knew the kids mom, he sold her the addictive sweets//
Said for him to keep in touch, he'de have the kids back//
The kid had nowhere to go, so now he slanged crack////
2 cars, 1 house in the better side of the ghetto//
Age 18, his street name was the Hard Marshmellow//
His life was better now, but more dangerous by far//
He been stabbed, shot at, & attacked at sevral bars//
Couldn't go anywhere without packin a knife or some heat//
Cause you wouldn't imagine what crack fiends would do when in need//
He had a girl, he really loved his big booty momma//
He wanted kids, and he wanted to retire from the street drama//
But he was raised in the streets, it accepted him when nothing did//
So it's only natural that the streets had influence of pullin him back in////
So he continued drug dealin, married his girl, had 2 children//
Things turned for the worse, M Dub died, crack gone, desperate, began stealin//
His baby momma, named Rhonda, was pregrent with blessing #3//
Right about the same time he got caught robbin, sentenced to the pen for 3//
In reality, life is but a dream, make money, take money, it's always extreme//
In jail, he thought bout his pops & how he stole//
How he was a bit luckier, cause he still alive with a soul//
Real Gangsta's are crooked, but that ain't the path they woulda chose//
The street life took him in, or rather... Dragged him by the toes//
He didn't wanna be a repeat of his father, who like him, was now 30 years old////
Fresh outta prison, eager to re-do his wrongs//
He couldn't find Rhonda, her 'n the kids was long gone//
He couldn't let this happen, maybe they moved to Compton//
But what he didn't know was they all got shot, when his house got robbed in//
Oh but when he found out, he immediately asked ''Who''//
Some important guy of the Bloods, who was 3 days later found blue//
He wasn't just involved in street life, he was now a certified thug//
Nothin to keep his heart warm, this world fucked him up enough//
He was hardly ever sober anymore, always mixing Jin 'n Juice//
He could call himself Tupac, cause he had nothin' to lose//
& when the Bloods found him, his friends sold him out for some boose//
They knocked him, socked him, & put him in the trunk for a cruise//
This was the end, what the fuck did it matter though//
The world was always against him, theese were just minor foes//
Before they blew his brains out, cause it's obvious this happend//
He said, ''You rejoining me with my family, finally some positive action''////
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