I'm from the part of town where the sun sets,
The shitty end of proletarian-lane
Where you sell your soul to get respect
Either on the way in or out of custody
Where the landscape is under a layer of .... *
And someone pats you on the back with a knife in his hand
You get looked at like a bitch
If write lyrics about writing lyrics
Even if you rap about everything else,
Nothing's worth it if the shit isn't true
So instead of grabbing the balls,
I'd rather speak up
It's always my neighborhood
No matter what happens,
My soul is growing here
But all the things I see,
Keeps my joy down
'Cause the people, they thrive on
Other people's misery
Hidden away in there somewhere
I could dry your tears
Tell you everything is okay,
And I could write you a song,
About how you don't need to be "banging"
But we don't share the same point of view,
So close your eyes again,
'Cause you don't wanna see
The thoughts I live in
I sit in the part of the club where the lights are dim,
Where the feeling for girls is hidden away,
Where you sell your soul to get pussy,
Either born with it or it's burned into you,
Where women lay under a stethoscope
And we smile just to get into your head
And you get looked at like a bitch
If you open up a little and cry over an ex,
And if you don't, you're on top
'Cause the worlds meat-market is open daily
Instead of letting you use your tongue,
I'd rather take the blade out of your mouth
You caused our heads to turn,
So of course we remember you
The feeling that you said no
For you there will be another way
And the first love,
They'll always have you
The reason they cried,
Hidden away in there somewhere
I could dry your tears
Tell you everything is okay,
And I could write you a song,
About how you don't need to be "banging"
But we don't share the same point of view,
So close your eyes again,
'Cause you don't wanna see
The thoughts I live in