I wake up to see the world crumble

This life I live plays out as a struggle 

Like seeing my friend get shot barely 11 years old

This block I live on is only so tough 'cause it's the people that make it a ghetto

Tell me why do so many people act so fake? Or why do they discriminate?

I might be trapped in this city full of people with no pity for anyone but themselves

Love my city but been here long enough to know it keeps people down

This place I call home,

I don't mean to talk it down but all I see when I look around is struggle,

Not in a home but in the people

I look at each of these vaguely familiar neighborhood faces one by one to try to understand the meaning of having a gun where I' come from

Like continuously having young teens pull up on me and my brother since we were young

It's so sick how they do it all for fun

But do they know any better? If I wasn't smart about how I wanna live out my life would I be the same as them?

It's so sad how they don't even want to get out of this life, they'd rather stick with the struggle and violence

My family and I placed in this environment

Yet I continue to appreciate it all

I put up a wall

I am individual and strong

Struggle independently on my own in silence,

I fear the thought of others knowing my struggle for the only image I want of myself is that I am unaffected by it all

So frequent I now know it plays out like a song because it will end but I will always come back

Once I get a chance alone with myself I cry a million puddles

I am individual until it's doubled