pockets of maddnes,kept in bundles of dozens//
a whole life of saddnes was the result of my cousinz//
two or three started to fall,fell a victim to the street//
i turned my head ignored crime,and fell a victim to the beat//
was my life pay back,from sins my elders comited//
made me feel like that suicide was sumthin i could of admited//
my anguish worsend,got more hellish every day//
another brudda got it,murda changed the way we pray//
we dont ask for change of life,I ask for a deathles week//
a peacfull Compton,Jamaica Queens,London,Wolftown i seek//
my people reek of sin,its like i smell it as i pass them//
my immature self wud done sumthin stupid,maby glass them//
scar a face,leave bloody mess as i stood braggin//
boastin how i got em as my homeboys stood laughin//
that shit aint happenin,now ive grown up to appreciate fairnes//
but still we do our silly maddnes cuz we sumtimes fell a lil careless//
im feelin like my god just tore this,got down like nas and ripped my hert//
squeezed so tight and took it,like its an Unnecessary body part//
well thats my feelin,even the children start by stealin//
they move to bigger things in life,like gangbangin and drug dealin//
this aint a thug song or gangster topic,its what i feel bout a few emotions//
like if i grew to be the best,i even sometimes feel like iv de-motioned//