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By mXt the street poet

peace no longer exists
hate and gunplay make this evident
racism, malevolence
kids screams mimic those made outta kettle lids
peddlers makin big bills off addicts and fiends
please believe our lives are being seized
lost in a sea of thieves, the way of life and how we used to be
is compromised by the moguls that we see on t.v.
so we resort to melee
fist to eye, broken socket, blood stained long sleeves
shanks inserted to let souls free
unvoluntarily, not necessarily up to he, the victim
but he got what he wanted, ironic, huh?
parody of the gangsta life, who are we?
if your not a real killa than keep the peace
you dont need to be a thug to rock a beat
and heaters dont gotta be tucked if your juss tryna let your ink sweep
no hundred dollar bills rolled like pillsbury, or blackberry carried
as long as the truth is being carried