A 2nd Chance

[Intro: C-Murder]

How many of my TRU niggas actually get a second chance at life?

At their dreams? Not many, huh

Peep game

[Verse 1: C-Murder]

Started off as a street thug, just hangin' and thuggin'

'89 went I to jail for druggin' and muggin'

Poppa, please, ain't no fuckin' way for me

Probation for 10 years don't mean you're free

I know my TRU motherfuckin' niggas know how I feel

This shit's real, I wish my brother wouldn't have got killed

For me to realize the game is wicked

Shit, can't even trust the niggas that I used to hang with

Huh, but I remember what my brother told me

I know a real bitch by the way she hold me

I love my TRU niggas like I love money

If you fuck with No Limit, you never find nothin' funny

And I take it to the grave with me

If you shoot first bitch, you better make sure you hit me

Cuz I'm known for choppin' keys on my mom's table

I split a hundred G's with my niggas Kane and Abel

Fast money, fast bitches is what I live for

Until I caught a fuckin' bullet in the back, bruh

They thought I was dead, but I'm still in it

I'm back to life, back on top, ain't no limit

[Chorus: Mo B. Dick & Master P]

Back to life (From the cradle to the grave)

Back to reality (Some youngsters on the streets tryin' get paid)

(From the cradle to the grave

There's some youngsters on the streets tryin' get paid)

Back to life (From the cradle to the grave)

Back to reality (Some youngsters on the streets tryin' get paid)

[Verse 2: Master P]

Tattoo, Hennessy and weed

Grew up in the project with killers and Gs

The Last Don is known for slangin' and bangin'

Thug niggas, third ward Calio where we hangin'

Ghetto's soldiers mercenary we rhyme

This game is life or death and it's your soul or mine

We don't play no games boy, just tryin' get paid

Hope I get rich before they dig my grave

So many penitentiary chances: feds and demons

So many homies in the ghetto with their soul in [?]

Thank god we trust ain't no man gone harm me

My best friend be my lady cuz these fools are phonies

So, take heed I been beyond and back

I live my life through the lord, my homie, the greed and the back

I said: Ugh!

[Chorus: Mo B. Dick & Master P]

Back to life (From the cradle to the grave)

Back to reality (Some youngsters on the streets tryin' get paid)

(From the cradle to the grave

There's some youngsters on the streets tryin' get paid)

[Verse 3: Silkk the Shocker & Master P]

You couldn't tell me nothin', a little ghetto child runnin' wild

Shed tears trough years made it hard to smile

Imagine homies dying while you standin' right there

See, yo, my reality's your worst nightmare

And now I'm trapped in the whole fuckin' world of sin

Kill or be killed hit down by the hands of his best friend

You gotta know if you wanna live there's rules to this shit

You can't break 'em if you wanna be rich

And when my homie died and didn't come back

I knew it was on nigga, stressed god blessed

Got his name on a tombstone

Some of my friends go out before me and I walk that path

I spraypaint your name on the wall and I sit back and laugh

You gotta make decisions, make 'em all with precision

Try to make moves and avoid prison

I remember the first time I laughed at the penitentiary steel

When the told me: "Spread, lift and cough," I knew it was real

Now I was just out there tryin' gain some strength

Birds came to me one night told me, "Silkk, you gotta change your life"

But it was all or nothin' could never settle for second

Gotta make the whole world feel my presence (Ugh)

I told my homie, don't cry if I close my eyes

"But Silkk the Shocker, you too young to die"

[Chorus: Mo B. Dick & Master P]

Back to life (From the cradle to the grave)

Back to reality (Some youngsters on the streets tryin' get paid)

(From the cradle to the grave

There's some youngsters on the streets tryin' get paid)

Back to life (From the cradle to the grave)

Back to reality (Some youngsters on the streets tryin' get paid)

(From the cradle to the grave

There's some youngsters on the streets tryin' get paid)