Thugs get lonely too...

Took out a pen,
sprayed ink on my skin,
made tattoos on me,
a rail way track you see,
in these rusty brown bins,
eating roasted brown peas...
Thug life sticking needles,
getting high on fear,
those who fear,
How I really look inside...
that thugs get lonely too.

I lost one,
one of my street queens,
to the cold on the streets...
eaten live by the decay,
fading by the day.
from staying away,
slowly dying away.
The thug still stay,
found a street to run,
found a color to burn,
more tattoos on his skin,
express his pain,
that thugs get lonely too.

Opening buttons,
gifts unwrapping...
feels like somebody's birthday,
a lady with table manners...
and the weight lifts over,
feels like on top of the world,
blood getting warmer,
a thug ready to stay longer,
shoot his gun in the air,
act like he don't care,
but what he's really scared,
is knowing thugs get lonely too.

walking a lady to the stop,
watch her leave in a bus,
thugs make no fuss,
pretend the heart doesn't feel...
keep losing their way,
and finding their way,
to that mean look,
THAT "I don't feel look"
straight from the thugs book.
but Thugs get lonely too.
Ain't this how we look,
thugs who still groove,
thugs who still move,
thugs who still prove,
thugs get lonely too.