Wednesday, 28 February 2007

in the hood

Misery has no upside
and the company's not good
what won't come out in the wash
is gonna come out in the hood

yellow tape is like a torch
which leads all eyes to stare
what exactly happened here
who what when and where

we'd like to think it's not the norm
while cops patrole the streets
we hope and pray somehow, someday
the crime rate will decrese

So where's your little brother
well today's his day in court
Kelvin likes to ride his bike
but peddles drugs for sport

Never knew his father
and hates his mother's men
the gang he's in
are more like kin
and faithful to the end

Kelvin was elected
to shoot a brotha dead
whose crime it seems
was wearing jeans
not blue, but crimson red.

The boy, he could not do it
I ain't nobody's fool
He'd sell the drugs
he told the thugs
but "rather shoot some pool".

Granny's on the front porch
settin' out to sweep
The bullet whizzes past her
and on a pathway to dissater
cuts through wood and plaster
to find the child in his sleep.

Kelvin's little brother
could not tell the time
he bearly knew his numbers
but could rap a nursery rhyme

They buried little Winston
and Gran's not doin' good
his swingset is abandoned
and it's quiet in the hood.

No one really plans
a lowly life of crime
to drop out of society
and soon be facin' time

So go ahead and spraypaint walls
decorate abandoned halls
breakdance, shoot your basketballs
skateboard parks and crowded malls

Encourage all their hopes and dreams
lead them out of evil schemes
cuz all is not what it all seems
when there's quiet in the hood.

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