Rap Life of the Streets

As I’m walking down the street 

with this curse

I hear people screaming,

screaming in the streets.

and I ask myself why?

Why am I the one on this ride?

While others are in some other place 

without suffering or

gambling life.

I see my zombie-like brothers and sisters

enjoying the effects of the powder-white candy they’ve just indulged. 

And only for the few minutes that the candy gives

do they seem to really smile

their problems seem to unpile.

“It’s not fair”, I say.

I hear it echo through people’s minds 

but no one really tries,

to quench this growing hell and distress

that grabs these homies by the neck

and chokes them to death.

And they do realize,

But these homies can’t stop.

They try with all their might

But the coke isn’t light.

Their thirst grips hard

at their reddened and sore throats.

They’re exhausted.

They wanna stop.

No, they need to,

But the claws wont budge.

They pray and hope

That one day they’ll revolt

And earn a vote

In this war of broken dreams

And extinguished families.

But for now, here I walk, 

in these cracked and bruised streets,

A survivor amid all my brothers.

A wanderer asking themselves, 

“Why is it me?

Why is it me living this curse?”

And not a single man

There to support.