BoyZ Don'T Cry II

Rose of the slums rainy days don't matter I put my lines on these strings till the bread gets butter

Still trapped in the hood all I hear is make cheddar because them ps in the bank could make men think better stepped on a kid while I was tryna reach further but am still in the booth casting stories from a feather,

Lost some men to guns suicide and sets some of my fam in drugs they nine to five for the pipe

They lost they way on the rise

I think they fooled by they eyes,

In my hood there's no living fam we pray to survive ,

Humble niggas they grind and ganstar niggas go grab Disabled men they go beg hoping you'd reach in your bag .

I got my feet in the game iam neck deep in this beat I lost some bags on the way

Tired of running the streets no rapper code signed me my words came from OGs go ahead buy me a drink and you can keep the fugees.

[When I came up and sometimes I fell down and who ever was around they said

Boyz don't cry