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Kids In The Ghetto
IP:
Kids In The Ghetto
intro: life..life is hard...it's hard for eveyr race...every shape...every size...every kind of person. Life's hard for everyone. Multiple gunshots, kids drop// the day stops, but no one calls the cops// it would just make it worst, not ever one wants 2 go away in a hoarse// you see what im saying? Its like a cruse, that never goes away// young black males, having to make crack sales// lucky, I got out of there, and they still help me// when I need it, I saw my guy pleading, for his life// couldn’t take it, stabbed other man with the knife// and ya, your right im half white, im bi-racial// and left the ghetto, didn’t want a new facial// you see what im saying? And when I write these I anit playing// kids praying, just to live, and slaying, others// brothers and mothers, to get paid// raping girls, just to get laid// Then cops have a raid, trying to find excatsy// or what ever, shit even the girl next to me// (Lyrikal poet) kids is bein chased by cops based on proof of stolen timbs/ while a kid walks by wit bloody skin and aching limbs/ seein hommies fucked up and dropped to a sound of a gun shot/ won't this stop? today's another battle fought, can't wait to see up top/ and this ain't easy, seein grown men sellin drugs to kids who barely 13/ cuz all they parents too drunk off Hennessey to see and notice this shit/ they to high off weed to need to give a fuck about this shit/ at the back of my head i hear screams and cries from all these drive bys/ and we got too many teary eyes, long sighs, and continues lies/ we can't make it through a day with proof to say that we're here for a reason/ sick of livin life this way, i wish today would be the day i stopped breathing/ and in this life i can't get far drivin around in mah stolen, keyed up car/ wishin on that shootin star that 2moro i won't be walkin bare foot on hot tar/ i see a young G faced down on the ground wit a gun in his hand/ its too hard to understand, this boy was barely a man/ took it upon himself to see our God alittle too early/ this bothers me, that a young man took his life cuz of da ghetto streetz/ (Bigred) kids getting hyperthermia, does it burn-ya, turn-ya// in to a better person, lurking, to help some one// but they use to be jumped, they pull a gun// they flunked, in personal relations// and have no hesitations to pull the hair trigger// always hitting on hitters, burning the marijuana// chilling in the heat, like an iguana// he has a quick vision, needs to make the right decision// people would catch him sleeping, no one would hear them creeping// there’s street smarts, beating hearts, deceiving thoughts// what should he do(?) he was different, he knew// affectedly, he would get the best of me// so he tested me, flexed-ta-me// trying to scare me, wanted my money// wouldn’t fall for it, the streets were haunted, by violence// and no tolerance, so what would happen if I went along// I would be singing the sad song// they would know, to mug me, never show love to me// luckily, he didn’t go crazy, and let me show him the right// we chilled rest of the night, I would fight for him// wanted him to get out, show no skin, of this place// it’s a decrease the state, don’t help, they just hate// but its just fate, when they do help, it will be to late// (Lyrikal Poet) god's talkin to him in his sleep at night/ he continues to fight and can't get any answers right/ in life he's lost, can't pay his due costs to da cops/ he can end up gettin shot cuz havin enemies is somein he can't stop/ why does this happen that a boy can't manage to stay alive/ a girl can't manage to have a kid before she turns 25/ i seen niggas beatin up on a homeless dude the otha day/ i could watch, coudlnt stay to see this man suffer in every way/ no food to eat, no bed to sleep, and no money to be considered cheap/ no family to even beat, no money to even loose no feet to bruise from old shoes/ ppl stare at the niggas who on welfare/ to make this fair i wanna make it clear that money ain't "care"/ love is care, but some niggas dont even have love/ ppl walkin round wit shame from no hugs, they lonley thugs/ no family, no friends, they isolated in solitude/ ppl bein rude cuz a nigga had no choice but to steel his first pair of shoes/ another lost brother, another lost hope/ no more faith cuz life is somethin some ppl can't seem to cope/ this life is to systametic and i can't imagine it bein diplomatic/ i find it ironicthat we only got one chance at it, so i gotta make it a gimmic/ to suceed and pleed that i wont' t turn a corner and fall to my knees/ from a gun shot against me cuz already i see the new day brings grief/ outro: Life's hard yo....cuz no matter how much good we may obtain..life is still hard. my guy lyirkal poet from hha and i did this....is something quick, .... more to arise |
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