Attention, attention, ANFD

another nigga found dead.

Sirens serenade seemingly silent still-lifes,

but this is real life, get the picture?

On the T-shirt, we first glorify the streets,

We first glorify the streets,

while the people with some sort of intelligence,

know sidewalks are the best path to walk.

I chose to walk the empty road, not because I'm a rebel

but the mold is a bit tight and ya boy wants some freedom.

I have the soul of the phoenix,

burning in my soul is a passion to change myself and the world

burning with the same sort of love for humanity

as the Chicago mother for her son

who's name, face, memory will be soon erased,

a victim of culture misguided,

the only cultivation or acculturation he'll ever know is his return to dust.

It's just ashes to ashes with another one.

Not so lucky, but happy-go-lucky little girls,

double dutch delightfully, dancing delicately over the 

blood-drenched streets that don't stain so easy

unlike the black tops draped in white sheets 

because homeboy looked at me wrong and met his maker.

Bang, bang.

Attention, attention, ANFD.

Another nigga found dead.

When we said leave your mark on the world, we didn't mean leave scars.

Whoever said the pen was mightier than the sword

obviously didn't realize that a gun will shut you up faster than legislation.

With no hesitation, triggers get pulled,

Families get flanked, ganked, spanked, smacked with funeral fees

that only dough boy money could pay for.

Mama always told him he'd pay for his actions,

But when reality decided to drop by and cash her check,

he was paying for a casket.

Living by the gun only leads to dying like a fool,

just a cog being manipulated by the tools

or the more colloquially accepted, the system.

We have this rhythm but it's not keeping up to the beat

of the ancestral song that screams

I love me some me and you,

rather we're moving with the machine,

a slow life-purging device that works from the inside out,

It's not taking our shelter, clothes or food,

It strips our souls and minds to the tabula rasa,

and writes "Shun your feelings."

And so that fourth element, 

the quintessential need that always get left out,

Love is gone. 

Attention, Attention, ANFD

Another nigga found dead.

Another nigga found dead, or might as well be,

he doesn't know what it takes to be a man and never will.

Never will he question himself because it's what he knows.

He plays the game according to his own rules 

with little regards for his fellow players.

I on the other hand had to take matters in my own hand,

a militant solider in the war against fuck niggardy.

I stand for chivalry. 

I stood looking in the mirror at the man who I used to be

put the 9 to the reflection, almost considered it 

"self-destructive."

Our eyes connected, fear manifests itself in the eyes of the weaker.

I used my gun as a redefining tool.

Bang. Bang.

Attention. Attention. ANFD

Another nigga found dead,

in his place stands a black man.