Football with friends on concrete car parks,
hitting whips, amber alarms tear through the dark,
Crack heads converge nightly at the same spot
Out of sight of blue lights, in shadows, flicking needle shots,
Motor hoarse voices, arguing amongst each other,
"You cool my brother? Are you done?
"Should I hit you with another? Come on, just one"
littering Jimmys and syringes where we have fun
In these dead end ghettos, these dead ass slums,
But it is what it is where I come from
It makes or breaks you, It broke me, then made me
Street smart, a grinder, never to be lazy,
Birthed a mantra: Stay motivated, Dream big. Excel the pitfalls of this society
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