| I was stabbed by Satan, on the day that I was born
|
| I was promised lovin', but instead I was torn
|
| La la la, la la la, My heart bled tears
|
| La la la, la la la, My eyes shed tears
|
| A poor black ghetto child
|
| He can’t shoot and he can’t go run a mile
|
| There’s no school and the kids go running wild
|
| The police and the courts wanna run 'em out
|
| He’s so? |
| and the police hate 'em all
|
| He ain’t seen his daddy since back in '84
|
| But oh well so it be now he’s in jail
|
| His mother’s stressing just to get him out on bail
|
| Let’s sing it out
|
| And the story goes on
|
| There’s no glory and the worry takes a toll on
|
| His own body but his buddies wanna roll on
|
| It’s all bloody when the car comes to a stop
|
| The police with the big glocks pull 'em out
|
| They say freeze but there’s only one one coming out
|
| There’s two dead with a legal gun to his head
|
| It’s stupid, he should of played ball instead
|
| So one day when it’s all said and done
|
| My life will be the bluest rap song ever sung
|
| My verses will be curses to the rich
|
| And all sorts of authority will cease to exist
|
| My daughters will be free of war?
|
| Raisin they aim in the silence of revolution my face will appear
|
| Like the vision of a prisoner with his last bed
|
| This song is a poem and the whole poem is a tear
|
| Drop to no ear |