Modern Day Warfare

Clack, clack! Do you hear that?

Gun shots, Gun talk.

That's the welcoming to my city.

19 dead in 30 minutes got me wondering, America, would you care if it was me?

That's an everyday thing and only some make it.

If your life was taken, Obama won't go on television and mention your name.

Because in the hood when you die you're only pennies to them,

Victims to them.

Little gang banging boys, and promiscuous females to them.

The ones in front of the trigger, And the ones that's pulling them.  

"18 year old boy gunned because of mistaken identity" They said "Failure to comply to arrest" They said "12 year old armed and dangerous." They said

Assumptions just as dangerous as assassins.

These asses in the nation still go about their day as our lives are taken away

Chants of R.I.P Mike, Trayvon, Eric, and Antonio

Ring out thru the streets like a clock that's struck 12.

Faces plastered against white shirts,

We're simply holding onto deceased memories.

Playing with the lives of our loved ones,

And bullying the souls of the innocent,

These guns have become our frenemies.

I gotta question.

What if you, yes you wealthy people walked on the same concrete I do?

Ducked and dodged bullets like I do?

Pray every night that me and my homies make it outta the hood before being taken outta the hood like I do?

Broken glass all over but if you look close you can see the reflection of a mother's tears

Born in her eyes,

Living on her cheeks,

And dying at her lips.

Teenage girls and four year olds ain't done nothing to deserve to rest in peace.

And I guarantee that their souls ain't resting peacefully.  

The bodies of the young are dropping like flies.

The city of Chicago has now turned into Sodom and Gomorra.

Turning into salt when trying to back track and help a friend is no longer an option.

Instead we're turning into another face on another shirt.

Taken out by another gun by the hands of another person.

Talked about in another news report, becoming another number.

Another statistical analysis of how we are our own devils and this world is our hell.

The assassination of the abomination that this generation has become, is one of which is most discomforting. 1

9 dead in 30 minutes and no one comes.

Bullets flying outside like birds, landing in the stomachs and heads of Chiraq's and Ferguson's children.

The death toll is higher than the population.

There are more kids in caskets in cemeteries than in seats in classrooms.

More hospital visits with "Get Well Soon" cards than house visits for study sessions.

My people aren't thriving.

We're dying. We've lost our fathers, brothers, uncles, cousins, mothers, sisters, and children to the hand of the damned.

But I'll be damned if I stand and watch another soul be lost, or another life wasted to the "separate but equal society"

Gun talk so loud,

Gun smoke so thick

I can't breathe

She can't breathe

He can't breathe

We can't breathe.

It's hard for us to speak

My life matters

Her life matters

His life matters

Black lives matter

ALL LIVES MATTER.