Heroin….mom and dad shooting up.
Every hour of the day, it seems they’re f*cked up,
Riding the waves of their high.
Many days, they have no lights.
Can’t sleep because of gunshots or noise from street fights.
Unknowing, the teacher wonders why he underachieves.
Can’t understand why he doesn’t have hope and can’t believe.
Whatever is his talent, he keeps it in.
Truth be told, he thinks he won’t make it too far pass his age of 15.
School is the only get-a-away.
For those few hours, he can cast his fears away.
Parents tell him he’ll be like them…
Say he’ll never be sh!t.
They snip his wings,
Killing the seed of his hopes and dreams.
Being a doctor, was once an aspiration.
Now he’s on the street corner, forehead with beads of perspiration,
Hoping the cops won’t see him,
Wishing no one tries to murder him.
One pocket full of weed,
The other with some crack rock.
He thinks to himself, “Gotta get it how I can.”
WHEN WILL THE CYCLE END?
Every hour of the day, it seems they’re f*cked up,
Riding the waves of their high.
Many days, they have no lights.
Can’t sleep because of gunshots or noise from street fights.
Unknowing, the teacher wonders why he underachieves.
Can’t understand why he doesn’t have hope and can’t believe.
Whatever is his talent, he keeps it in.
Truth be told, he thinks he won’t make it too far pass his age of 15.
School is the only get-a-away.
For those few hours, he can cast his fears away.
Parents tell him he’ll be like them…
Say he’ll never be sh!t.
They snip his wings,
Killing the seed of his hopes and dreams.
Being a doctor, was once an aspiration.
Now he’s on the street corner, forehead with beads of perspiration,
Hoping the cops won’t see him,
Wishing no one tries to murder him.
One pocket full of weed,
The other with some crack rock.
He thinks to himself, “Gotta get it how I can.”
WHEN WILL THE CYCLE END?
No comments:
Post a Comment