Air filled with scents of grilled meat
Melodies of R&B, rap and jazz penetrate my street
double dutch, and freeze tag is the game of sport
momma makin sides, dad yellin from the porch
aunti's in her cups and puts on a show while the elders relax and shout "dominoe!"
Families aware of the neighborhood young and feel responsibility for everyone
Lights out times up
they riden thru
hide ya babies lay them in the tub
shots ring out form that Chevy on dubs
We live in your turf
I thought this just meant 31st
I didn't know that I was on the battlefield
where gangmembers live and innocense is killed
Didnt know that my clothes made me suspect
just wanted that new red outfit
Should of known that these guys were villians
mistaken for misguided civillians
No
No you do not scare me
rather die than live in your reality
No
I'm not scared of you and your hot ones
your mini glocks and your tommy guns
Just scared of the fact that you are our future
The ones I will have to work harder to make up for your slack
The ones that I will need to carry on my back
Thanks for making my streets unsafe
thanks for the cries of childless mothers
Kudos to you for murdering my brothers
Much love to our future providers
You have let me down my race down humanity down
That alone divideds us
Thank you gangmembers for using military weapons but not to defend us
not to protect us
Only because you fear us!
We will light our grills and play our songs
Kids will still play in our streets and steer clear of wrong
We will still celebrate our life and always feel the need
For my young black brothas are a dying breed
I pray for you my brother to take heed
and to be that one that breaks the creed
We need you young brotha when the world says we do not.
We need you young black man to raise your children marry your women and keep grub in the pot.
We need you young brotha to do what God has chosen for you to do
Lead!!