It feels good
If I wasn't a gangsta, where would I be?
UCLA, graduatin' with a bachelor's degree
Goin' to grad school to get my master's
Or even fuck around and get a Ph.D
Shit, I could have been a teacher, schoolin' the youth
Or I could have a preacher, healin' people in pews
I could have been a scientist, I do like trees
Or could have been a botanist or your psychologist
Or just a store clerk, ringin' up at your request
Customer service rep with a cubicle and a desk
A jeweler with the best you could find on one's neck
Or part of a company that consolidates your debt
I could have joined the army, could have been a cadet
Maybe the air force, pilot flyin' jets
Either way, I'm just a nigga from the 'jects
92059, but who knows?
Nights like this I go deep in thought till I touch my soul
People say life is a cycle, so I keep God as my idol
But if I try and I fail, I say, "Get back up and try the next day"
People say life is a cycle, but what do we really know?
What if I wasn't a Blood? Where would you find me?
In the Crip hub with some homies behind me?
Nah, somewhere where the sun is shiny
With my daughter and my unborn son and mami
Somewhere more positive like a plus sign
You know what time it is, it's time to get mines
I can see myself off and help
To the people in need like yourself
I'll probably be a lot more involved in politics
On the podium, sharin' thoughts on Jena Six
Start fundin' millions to NO after Katrina hit
Not takin' no N-Os as a answer for it
I could have completely evacuated the Towers on 9/11
'01, how many died? No one
Now, picture that as the verse colds
Everybody got an opinion, but who knows?
One for the ghetto
Two for the kids with dreams that won't settle for less
I guess it's best that we settle for greatness
Pedal education and throw darts at Satan
You got to excuse my sincerity
Cause everybody out ain't a leader
And apparently you ain't one either
I swear I keep my cerebral so sharp it can cut people
They ball up like a child positioned in fetal
Hey, young world, I got a song to sing
About the dramas and they exist and they kill a king
They want to kill a king, but that first verse was just a what-if
See, I'm a gangsta with a red beam over the Glock
Shootin' shots like a ball team
Your shooters get shot, ten marksmen can all bleed
Now, that's cold-bleed, I mean cold-blooded
That's what Weezy said, and a nigga loved it
Cause I'm 'bout that, took a loss, bounced back
Get a show for fifty stacks, told mama, "Count that"
This dope boy now doin' shows
It's a long road ahead, but who knows?