Artist: Apocalipps f/ Beno, Blizzard, Iron Mic
Album:  Smokefest
Song:   Stress
Typed By: pneumatic

[Intro: Beno]
Damn, Stress the fuck out man,
I'm only seventeen and I'm losing my head man,
Fuck, I got patches man.

[Chorus: Apocalipps]
Yo when you wake up in the morning paranoid with the tech,
Go to check your stash and you aint got shit left,
Always gotta watch your back and you stay wit a vest,
Nigga these are the signs of stress, So what's next,
When your legal aid try to make you cop to a stretch,
And you can't do shit your co-d confessed,
Your hair fallin out and you lookin all like a vet,
Nigga these are the signs of stress, So what's next.

[Iron Mic]
Ayo picture a young teen posted up on the block,
No respect for the law, No respect for the cops,
You ever think the lil nigga prolly missin his pops,
Mom duke strung out speedin chasin the rock,
Older niggas tryna pump me, Got my hand on the glock,
Got me stressed out, Next nigga front gets shot,
I'm a product of my environment,
I wake up early in the morning to hustle,
I got my eyes on the finer shit,
Fly cars, Diamond rings, Shit I'll prolly never see,
But I'm knee deep in the crack game so I let it be,
I'm under so much pressure I think I'm slippin B,
Feel like I'm runnin from death, Won't let it get to me.

[Prelude 1: Beno]
Stop tellin me that man, You don't understand my life man,
You don't go through the shit I go through man,
Nobody there to help me, But everybody got somethin to say
about how the fuck I wanna live, Fuck yall.

[Chorus]

[Blizzard]
Yeah, Why my pops had to nut for,
I wish I got choked by my mom's umbilical cord,
Comin up in this world diseased as a war,
I got signs of stress nigga, That's cause I'm poor,
Aint shit on my fork, Always in and out of court,
Baby moms always stressin about child support,
And pops used to tell me little nigga you hopless,
No dough, On my door's an eviction notice,
Eight niggas in my crib and they all sling work,
Instead of payin that rent, Motherfuckers wanna slurge,
How much can a nigga take, These are the breaks,
On a run from police, Better put on your skates,
Got two felonies and my life is at stake,
And the judge tried to give me twenty-five behind the gates.

[Prelude 2: Beno]
What you mean twenty-five to life, Your honor fuck you,
You aint shit, I hate all you fuckin crackers.

[Chorus]

[Apocalipps]
I life is a test, Then maybe you could say I failed,
Did the crime, Time to do the time, Life in jail,
I work for free, All day I'm swingin the mop,
Plus I double bunk with Ock, This nigga stay blowin top,
And I'm a non smoker, I don't gamble, No poker,
These old timers play with they hands, I'm no joker,
I'm a soul soldier, Ready to fight for the cause,
I fight for my food, I fight for my boots, I fight for my drawers,
Simple things, Some times we all hear screams,
Puerto Rican, Black, White, But we all wear greens,
The poor man's dreams, Gone within a blink of an eye,
Just think you and I, Will make it to the streets in due time,
And dudes get brolic, Think they got me shook,
Yeah you work out but son don't read no books,
If he did he would know he's just a commodity,
Live stock property that's why we gotta be,
Brolic in the minds, Cause if not that fails,
What you gone teach your seeds, How to read black tales,
Or blowin mack shells, Or better yet, How crack sells,
And his destiny is written, He gone end up in a black cell.

[Outro: Beno]
All yall motherfuckers listenin better learn from this,
Look at me, Look where I'm at now, Ruthless Bastardz.