You try to impress with your expensive things, like your diamond rings
You go to work in your wing tipped shoes.
On the way you pick up the news.
You read the words and feel abused.
Another child dead, shot in the head.
You turn the page, too much pain in it lays.
I cannot because it happened on my block.
I heard the shots.
When I got to the scene metal casings still hot,
My body dropped.
When I lifted his head, my hands dyed red.
My best friend had met his end.
And all of this by age thirteen,
and you wonder why my hoods so mean.
You aint seen half the shit I've seen.
You just drove by in your fancy car,
and judged me by a look from afar