Another Chicago Night

That wasn't a gun It was a wallet ...my brother See the cops then played target practice With a lot of my brothers Poured out liquor for a lot of my brothers So much they bottled it Built a liquor store and put a lottery in it. We in a lottery brother For the lives of a lot of these brothers They pickin 7s and scratching off a lot of these brothers. See I have birthday cards to parents With nothing but apologies in them Like " I'm sorry Ms. Johnson I heard what happened To your daughter, wrong place and wrong time and she just happened To get caught up, I'm sure she did no wrong because That's not the way we were brought up And me and Terrell are always here because You were always like a mother, with all the home-cooked meals And life lessons you taught us." But how Kanye gone complain about what the accident did to his left side Because they just shot that boy in his left eye, Lead sled right to his right eye And now he only fly in terms that he just died. Because the nurse cut right through his Polo shirt Like man, forget yo fly. She tryna keep you alive She gone have to be the one to tell your mother that you just died. She went to school to become a nurse Told to clean up brothers like you Now she scared to have a son Because he gone look like a brother just like you. And you wonder why educated people don't come bsck to the hood Because they sick and tired of explaining brothers like you. Killed this man, let him dead in his Tim boots Y'all thought he died like a G, naw he trembled But im the only one who saw it. Is this the price you gone pay for not snitching? Because it aint worth it, Monkies are only servants in the circus. And I know you aint mean to kill him But sometimes when we mix Hennessy, empty brown boys, and Chief Keef Somebody will be made fresh to death Murder aint always a decision Its fear's lust for temptation Its being too scared and dangerous for your own good, or your own hood But I know, I know black mothers dont raise their sons to be murderers Just as much as I know that they dont raise them to be murdered They would never set them up that way This world has given them nothing at all to lose And everything to prove So they stand on the frontlines naked Ready to make a man out of themselves with the only tools Click Clack.....this world has ever given a brother to use But I know black mothers dont breed hate and sin into their first born men Just as much as I know , she did not choose for him to be a model for them. I could never tell the difference between the mother of the murdered and the murderer. Both shook and solemn Both eyes and memories blue in tint. Both lost their grips when they lost their sons Developed a studder in their palms One became scared of her own shadow, while the other just became one. Someone's baby, just became a murderer last night And none of us remembered to cry for him To pray for him To ask God to take the hate and malice out his heart Or to ask him, boy did you get that hate from? Or that culture from? All them guns from? Glock snap the back like an old starter cap Builts hit him a miunte ago But he watched as his body kept bouncing. Take that boy to the hospitals Way Too much blood to take him home. "So yeah sonny, it all kinda does sound like a hip-hop song," And all they gave him was his maranda rights and a few seconds left to beg for his life.