Monday, August 8, 2011

4.28.1967 Pt. 2

See they don’t wanna listen so loud what I gotta be
Cuz my people are proud of the poverty
That got their sons shooting guns over dollar bills
He getting money snow or sunny but his daughter still read at a first grade level
And she 11 years old with her nose held high to the sky cuz she got her first purse made
On her birthday, she was singing “Birthday Sex”
Let’s skim right over what’s showing in plain sight
Looking the other way but knowing it ain’t right
Like over 50 shots now Sean Bell gone
Or a flashbang thrown in a little girl’s home
Aiyana Jones
Who? Aiyana Jones
One shot to the dome, she was 7 year’s old
It’s a shame
Imagine being daddy one day to putting your baby girl in a grave
Some things need to change
This ain’t a game
If you play into the mayhem you’ll be slaving ‘til the day you’re laying face up in a casket
With credit card sharks still asking if they can put your name on some plastic
Man it’ s a war going on outside no one is safe from
Heavy is the dark, a spark I’ma create one
Cuz a little light might be enough to make some stray from the ways of the slave
The pain of the hunger is enough to make a sane man put it to your brain for some money and a chain
And I don’t really blame em cuz if you’re in the game screaming “Money ain’t a thing” you resemble a filet
A lot of people saying that I’m preaching to the deaf
Man give that shit a rest
I’m going til the breath won’t come out a nigga’s chest
They in it for the checks
I’m in it cuz I wanna be remembered as a vet

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