Monday, July 27, 2009

SoulFood Sunday.

Signed, Sealed, & Delivered
I'm a product of my environment but trust I am not for sale
I refuse to be another causality of the drug game locked in a cell
It's a war and every day we got soldiers dying
Besides the ice cream truck all you can hear is police sirens
It's been decades of struggle from welfare to medicaid
Living in run down homes spraying roaches with raid
Our lights cut off, water leaking from the ceiling
On my knees in the dark praying to God for some healing
Tried to talk to the youth understand how they was feeling
Young girl 16 years old pregnant with three children
No money for abortion mama can't pay
Pops gone in the wind been missing since that day
They laid, paid the cost to be the boss but the price was too high
It's amazing what people will do just to survive
Stomach growling shorty looking for his next meal
It's beef in these streets these dudes got foreman grills
And they got time to kill, got rocks to sell
Trying to reach heaven but they still standing on hell
Fiends blow away dreams like bad mufflers
Thugs with iced out crosses, anointed hustlers
Pimps and Prostitutes yeah you know what's for sale
And everybody in the hood know somebody in jail
It's like an epidemic, modern day small pox
Don't even own our own home yet we dying for blocks
H.I.V. and K.I.D.S. not wanted
Never had much so everything we get we flaunt it
The slogan on your shirt says STOP SNITCHING
But we telling on ourselves we just too dumb to listen


New blogs & poetry coming soon. But now? Back to this Religion paper. "Procrastination is like Masturbation; In the end you're just screwing yourself." ^scholarFOCUS.

peace, -ace