Lyrics:

He was raised by the radio and television
To earn his loot shoplifting and he's selling ism
He never knew any better that's the way he's living
You see his father's not around 'cause he went to prison

He's got a mind state torn in a civil war
And he's gonna solve all his problems at the liquor store
He does what he wants, you tell him that it's immature
But you can't handle all the places that he's been before

Like watching his brother die from a stray bullet
Trying to live a short life to the very fullest
Gold chains, he's got a Range Rover with rims
He's got a new leather jacket and a closet of Tims

It's the American nightmare and you might care
But he's a cold calculating con artist
He's like, 'Yeah? Come over here', bang and it's over tonight, yeah
I guess you had it coming 'cause nobody here fights fair

He's walking down the bombed out blocks without cops
And gets props for telling fiends where to cop rocks
Trust is a luxury and he's too cheap
'Cause his moms is checking his pockets whenever he sleeps

He's got a chip on his shoulder, a monkey on his back
He needs to smoke weed so he started selling crack
He's living in the struggle, he's used to despair
You can look into his eyes and he's never scared, he's thinking

I don't care

She ran away from the pain at an early age
From a father with a problem and a dirty place
She tried school but the bars made it like a cage
And she could make mad money from a pretty face

Without a pimp she was raped by a group of guys
And they laughed when she cried out to the sky
But the stars and the heavens never intervened
Now she's got a son even though she's seventeen

In the scene she's a queen but it doesn't last
When her boyfriends start paying her with crack
In her dreams she can fly, now it's more than that
She gets high every time she gets on her back

Now the drug keeps calling, she can't escape
Nobody wants to keep paying her the same rate
Because it's not the same face, not the same waist
But she needs even more of the same base

She was forced to find a way to satisfy the urge
She starts selling every gift that she ever earned
And then she turns every trick that she's ever learned
Lighting up the glass pipe until her fingers burned

She's a fiend for the rock and she can't stop
She tries to sell her own son when goes to cop
And all the guys stop calling and they don't stare
She's got a Jones for the dope and she won't share, she's thinking

I don't care