Go for the gold in these treachourous fields of darkness, where in this pool of mud inside you are the diamonds. Marching on concrete for change, on the outside its a tough ride, Feeling voids for unnecessary pain. Yeah we rather all trade peace for destruction, and our minds are trained to think that guns can solve problems. So some use weed to calm there own anxieties, not knowing that when they come down back to reality. An act for desperation, in seas of the law, but even in fatal laws, there is the slightest flaw. Its in our genes to sin but who knows this all can change, but in the mean time we bow down and just pray. What more can I say, read between the lines, In hoods gun sounds are the lullabies, you can see why we are in so much pain we been through so much without luck these struggles are locked inside our veins. So we replace them with material things, crack cocaine pricey clothes, diamonds and chains, no money can buy souls so we look around strange, being seduced by the drug slang The dope game if you didn't know. Even the older folks walk around in desperate need, perhaps they've been through the same thing as us as we all internally bleed. These twisted images I forsee falling to my knees, looking up to the heavens saying please forgive us of our un-earthly deeds.