Honoring my fallen bretherin' that never had a chance to live.//
it's like they was born, then laid down to rest again.//
come straight from the playground, to loadin' extra clips.//
reading the newspaper exerpt's with expert.//
shit... "Male 21, gunned down.. Parents make statement.. "It's so un-fair" Police have no clues, just another man-down they don't care.."//
cold air, clentch my hands clamped 'round photo's and this bottle-of booze,//
opened and hollowed to the ground for spiritual use.//
I shed a tear, it's no use.. they gone for good, another home in the hood left with extra rooms.//
cemitary's fillin' up with excess tombs, assailant niggaz still proud an' on the loose.//
what's a man ta do.. except open up wounds in suspects ta come back for my dead hommies, rude..//

HOOK
cemitary's stock piling.//
morgues blocked up with homicides'n.//
unsolved crimes, names range from allison -
to zander pyle..//
sometimes I'm surprised this mans still alive...//

We alive until we reach the end.//
breach of breath that leaves us weak and stained like the bleech was red.//
free from death, already passed on.//
released from stress, but 6 feet is beneath where the live would like to step.//
we thrive until we meet demise through un-rightful rivals with cold frozen heads.//
killa's feel no remourse like they force emotions in.//
never show fear, or lust for blood, just bust they guns and run as they un-cover ruptured lungs.//
they victems just so young, un-sung hero zero'd and like dust they gone.//
not remembered like we all just forgot.//
no more- stop.. why we actin like this.//
re-actin' like manic ill-mind activists with access to pistols so cheap it's like we "clap" for 10.//

HOOK

skills of matter and thoughts of skills that ain't amature.//
still stuck as the 7/11 night manager.//
ambitions of becoming a rap master shattered by a black cancer.//
some mans has the idea for armed robbery of ones life in a violent manner.//
brandishin' a nine and spoutin sinister laughter.//
"give me the money" in an instant stacks handed.//
then tha gun claps, spirit spills and the advancer dashes without answers.//
blood splashes over the lenolium and spreads like a wild blaze.//
survailance tape shows nothing but a hooded no-name.//
jon doe type game, with a mask and gloves, no-way to identify the guy's fade, man-hunt for only one day.//
victem laid in a grave with a suit and fluids drained.//
no arrests made, not knowing who did it's the worse 'cause then rest ain't reached so in limbo mans stay.//

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