This is a song about "Life being hard but selling my soul to get throw it"

You got ben's arranged money, have a benz or range money

Well never know, but it ain't hard to tell, my street poetry

Ya family will be missin you, theres a kiss for you

Its hard to beleive but this life really true

Money got me pulling strings, i got that geppetto dough

My money for them q backs but you do not get to throw

As i take you through a ghetto nigga's lullaby

But with this accent its just too hard to get by,

My money for folarin, but you do not get to throw

Poppa took the television, but left the radio

Righteously living, i know all my verses be cold

But it ain't hard to tell,his soul is already sold

Its hard to beleive but this life really true

Man, this nigga ugly and he raps, ooh

But fuck that, cindi was my dope fiend motherwelfare checks never stepped through the front door

Jesus i love you with every fiber of my being you know it, its hard for