Mistaken Identity
    (专辑: The Height Of Power - 2009)
    
    Yo turn this up in your whip  Cause Slaine and Statik Selektah on this shit  Push the 
seat back... and turn the 
system up  True story; pay attention to the 
details   "Think about the 
robbery... last week"  "Hey Young World, wanna hear a 
story?"  "This is a 
tale, of lost innocence"  "Stick up kids that's out for tax!"   I 
live in these streets daily so when I 
write 'em you can picture these  Stories supposedly were seperated by some six degrees  Whether youse as thick as thieves, junkies eatin Mickey D's  Cookin dope in a 
spoon, rollin up their frickin sleeves  Like Bobby with the 
burnt out eyes, bruised up veins  Lackluster charm, rotted arms, and used up game  Dopesick and stinkin old ladies at ATM's  With wrinkled skin for eyelids, threw punches and caved them in  They had bad habits, badder teens turned stickup kids  Turned needle-shooters, turned erratic fiends  And now it seems Bobby's doin B&Es, breakin and enterin  Takin what's temptin and hoppin fences 'til his ankles are bent again  Race for the 
hotbox, stolen 'caine and X-Box  A 
couple games, a 
couple lames in the 
front seat swervin lanes  Flippin middle fingers at suburban dames  Driving by whose pussies got wet filled with nervous shames  Back to Southie, hopped out the 
car  Then ran their mouths like the 
fuckin dope fiends they are   "I need loot, so I'm doin what I 
do"  "Junkies in the 
alley with the 
baseball bat"  "He's coming up short cause he snorts coke, dope, nope"  "I hope he don't get caught"   Word on the 
street it spread to this kid named Ed  Whose crib got robbed for X-Box, cocaine, and his bread  The 
block is always watchin, it's just the 
same as the 
feds  But the 
streets is always fast to put a 
name with a 
head  It's easier to kill a 
junkie when he lays in his bed  But it's hard to find a 
snake when the 
skin he stays in his shed  And he leaves his corner, stays inside the 
Days Inn instead  Gets locked up in the 
Bay addin the 
days in his head  Ed rolled over to Southie with a 
knife like a 
faggot  Lookin for Bobby who committed the 
robbery he's tryin to stab it  He got a 
habit for murder he wanna kill him slow  He stole some shit out his wife's room he's gonna kill him yo  A 
grey Infiniti rolls five-deep up our street  He holds the 
blade inside his hand tightly 'til their eyes meet  Before he stabbed him in the 
abdomen he screams the 
wrong name  Thought it was Bobby, he punctured his lungs with the 
long shank  Jumped into his whip, pedal to the 
floor with his friends  Thinkin justice is sweet when it ends with revenge  Only problem is Bobby wasn't the 
dude screamin Jesus  Bleedin in the 
street, it was Timmy with the 
same features  He worked for the 
Boys Club, no drugs, no thugs  Now he's slumped in the 
street chokin on his own blood  It's mistaken identity   "You know the 
evil that men do, hell is where the 
men go"  "And the 
game won't change, it's the 
same old thing"