Low Profile - How Ya Livin’ lyrics

(The beat is dope)
(Yup)
(Word to the mother)
(Ah yeah)
(And it goes a little somethin like this)
(Good God)
(The beat is dope)
(Yup)
(Word to the mother)
(And it goes a little somethin like this)
How ya livin
A brother kill another for a color
Now his family's forced to sit and suffer
Gang violence strikes again
The sound of a trigger
News at 11, now it's one less nigga
They figure
Self-destruction, bro, you're goin low
How can you kill a person
You don't really even know?
In jail you played hard until


One slapped you silly
Turned you over like a girlie and
Rode you like a sissy
Trapped behind bars in the middle of nowhere
Doin 10 to 20, braid another brother's hair
On the streets you was dope
You wasn't a joke
Nobody could cope
You was the king of the dope
Shoot a brother in a minute, man
That was your duty
But now you're in jail
Just givin up the booty
Spread em
I'ma show you what it's like in a jail
I kick reality
This ain't a crickett fairytale
You said you had heart, homeboy
How do you figure
Can you prove it without keeping
Your finger on the trigger?
You'se a punk, a peon, a buster
Bound to run
Never usin your fist, always grabbin a gun
Trigger happy with the gat
Brain stiffer than a manakin
Shot an old lady
But you claim it was a accident?
Drop the sawed-off, you must be illin
I got a question, homes, how ya livin?
The beat is dope, so I come off smooth
No need to yell it
Now what I seen on the streets
I gotta tell it
Smokers on the corner at the rock house shack
Tryin to scuffle up some money
For a 10 piece crack
And this is critical, pitiful
Life has become more difficult
Children on the corner
Holdin automatic pistols
Taught and trained at a young
Age to kill another
But the bad thing about it is
We're killin each other
Brothers killin brothers over
Man made material
It's a like a epidemic, better yet venereal
Only if you knew that
We was dominant original
We'd be prepared mentally as
Well as physical
Some say to make it though
It's gonna take a miracle
But they can't hold you back, brother
When you're spirtitual
Drop the 40 ounce, you must be illin
Yo Aladdin
Break it down while I ask
Em how they're livin

Yo
Let me tell you bout this crackhead I know

Booby was a crackhead smokin that dust
Like a fool
He was a sucker I never could trust
Used to let him in my house
He didn't need no permission
Until my goddamn VCR came up missin
Sprung on the pipe like a fish on a hook
Yo, Booby got labelled as
A neighborhood crook
Seen him with a color TV in his hand
Walkin down the streets sparked
Lookin for the dopeman
Skinny as hell from just hittin the pipe
Lost his job, his two kids
The beautiful wife
He'd sell his mother if you
Gave him a chance
Long as Booby got a piece
Of crack in his hands
Hey yo, you know what's sad
Or should I say it's a shame?
The way c-r-a-c-k destroys the brain
Think - somebody wanna see these things
Another dumb brother just smokin cocaine
Suckin up crack until your lips turn purple
From rehab to rehab
You're runnin in a circle
It's mandatory I touch this category
That's why I made it simple
Self-explanatory
It shouldn't take long for me to
State what's on my mind
Why should I sit and
Write a 10-minute-long rhyme?
Hey yo, drop the 40 ounce, you must be illin
So I conclude this rhyme with how ya livin?