[Verse 1]
It's 1995, a lot of brothers done died
A lot of sisters, them mothers, them fathers
And aunties, and grandmas left to cry
Now he nothing but a memory, used to be a friend to me
Said he'd never die, but now he's six feet deep, with a tombstone
Oh my god my brothers gone
And I don't even fucking think I can go on
Cause it hurts to lose someone you love
To this madness and killing, murder, shoot-em-up, this game of drugs
Doctors pumped his chest, my daddy said let him rest
A team rolled up and put him to his final test
Hands got cold, god rest his soul
He walked out his body to another fucking episode
Then the window opened, then they put him in the final frontier
You know what happened in the end...

[Chorus: Master P & King George]
I wish I could seen him before he died
Talk to him, but when they gone thats when we realize
I wish I could seen him before he died
Talk to him, but when they gone thats when we realize
Front, back, side to side
But who would be the next victim to roll in that black ride
Front, back, side to side
It might be you to be the next victim to take a ride in the black ride

[Verse 2]
Just another homicide for the West County Times
Fools gettin took out the game at the fuckin drop of a dime
The game's gettin' deep, I toss in my sleep
But would a young nigga live to see 2-3?
Killing dont phase me, fools think I'm crazy
Muslims on every corner, handin' out black daisies
Name scratched off the wall, ain't no final call
Used to slang bean pies, now it's 'bout that white ball
Only fifteen, already got fiends
And working the ghetto like Jack Stark could work some beans
Livin off a high, gold ones on this ride
Bitches on the side, but only livin to retire
Ain't that a shame, took him out the game
Same fool we used to roll with, yelled out his name
Popped him in his chest, didn't wear his vest
Same day his kid took his first step, he took his last breath

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Who's under the white sheet? Somebody bring the yellow tape
The ghetto took him under, today will be a sad day
Ain't no time to cry, no time to shed no tears
You know the way he died the same way he lived
Who was his killer? Found him dead on his knee
Same room he left his wife and kid left to grieve
Hopin' that this a nightmare, one pop and he's outta there
God rest his soul, left his kid in a wheelchair
Stabbed for his life, his daddy took the ghetto flight
And at the funeral, mama say: "Boy, you know, it's gonna be alright..."
But now he's gone, ain't nobody to run his home
Another kingpin stripped from that ghetto throne
Lost at the game of life, ain't no time to think twice
The same fool he trusted, and now sleeps with his wife
Tagged his toe, slapped him in the ziplock
Another nigga flip-flop, popped while slanging that crack rock
Now he's gone, "Amazing Grace" his last song
Six ballers carried out the church to take his ass home
4 limos, 3 Cutlass, 2 El Doggs, a cop and the hearse
Everybody had their lights on!
When the straps pops to lower him down in the grave
See it was sad the way his fucking family misbehave
His family crying, but everybody gots to die
But you won't feel what they feel, until somebody in your family dies

[Chorus: Master P & King George]
I wish I could seen him before he died
Talk to him, but when they gone that's when we realize
I wish I could seen him before he died
Talk to him, but when they gone that's when we realize
Front, back, side to side
But who will be the next victim to roll in that black ride
Front, back, side to side
It might be you the next victim to take a ride in the black ride
Front, back, side to side
It might be me the next victim to take a ride in the black ride

[Outro: Master P]
Y'all know all this motherfucking black on black crime got to cease
This goes out to all my motherfucking dead soilders out there
My little brother Kevin Miller
Vanguard, Bernell Jackson, My homie Dee Willis
Dana Parks, Pimp Daddy, Plan Bee, Gangsta Irvin
Yall know all this motherfucking gang-bangin got to stop
Rivertown gettin hotter than a motherfucker
All my homies out here in Richmond, ya know what I'm sayin?
All my niggas out there in The Manor, Easter Hills
Niggas in Parchester, P7
All my motherfucking dead soldiers yall gonna be missed
And all my motherfucking homies down here in New Orleans
Calliope Projects, motherfucking murder rate
Down here higher than a motherfucker
Yall gone learn to when we all motherfucking gone
Let me say goodbye to all my niggas in
Texas, Washington, LA
My niggas out there in Kansas City
Cinnitatti, Detroit, Alabama, Oklahoma
And to all you other motherfucking niggas
That don't understand what this shit is about
We just gonna reminse, smoke a fat ass spliff
Let this motherfucking beat roll, cause all the real niggas is missed
Ya know what I'm sayin?
I wish I could seen they before they died
Talk to 'em but now they gone, but gotta we realize