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If you're going to the same party I am, please don't ask where I'll be. I'll be wearing my revenge dress, dancing with a boy with blue hair or a girl with a nose ring, and you don't want to see that.
As I lay in my bed, I can't help but feel bad that somewhere, some time tonight... A poor child will be dead. There'll be no justice; It is something, society will easily forget.
Imma take you all back to the Civil Rights Team When Martin Luther King came n the scene Emotional About some dream And you see he wanted us to believe That love was the key
To question who I am and what I've been through
I am Chicago. Chicago is only two glocks for one block get shot at bus stops hide out from white cops if he flip-flops he's an OPP POSITIONS! Now we on a mission
What are we doing?....What have we become? We’re just gang banging… Lampin’: Hanging out under a street-light, on gangsta turf waitin’ for a Ghetto Star: A top street drug dealer
Oh my brother, where are you today?
Crips and Bloods, robbers and killers. Crips and Bloods, murders and stealers.
“Hey Ella! Nice to meet you! Where are you from, what do you do?” Where is easy. What is hard. What do I do? I hold her hand when she says “Ella my stomach hurts” She’s 14, and she’s four months
Gangs. How much I want for them to dissipate The fire is crackling, simmered down But sooner or later my breath of relief Will be winded down. Gunshots fly but are not found, the flames of the fire grow,
Two shots from two "22's" breaking the silence
Drugs, sex, money. His hustle. Gangs,
"I can sleep through gunfire," He said to me one nightDouble parked in parking lotHalf past closing time
Tonight I lay my head down, but the pressure never stops. Knowing that another kid just has been shot. Shot because of the signs he was throwing. Friscos cut and creased with his color rag showing.
(To The Inner City a.k.a "The Hood") Welcome to the lives of the treacherous, dangerous, penny pinching, gun-toting urbanites, etcera/ I hail from the danger where the fear's always near,
mercy, is what i begged for, mercy, i pleaded no more, seeing that red impala, running from an opening window heat hotter than a sauna, the loud gunshots,bleading eardrums,
Desolation and despair Color red the atmosphere Gunshots and screams the symphony The background changes With every day What does it matter anyway? Gray headstones or bloodied field
Fake chains and white Tee's, pants hang low to our knees, but we got to keep making this cheese, So we surviving up our own community, WE, chop that crack, WE, sell that weed, WE,