Lyrics:
This is for all the babies dying
Poor mothers that's crying
It's never meant to surprise em cuz
Every night they keep fighting
Boyfriend coming home
to standard the
The standard procedure
Would be to
Feed em to the streets
Full of freaks into freaky shit
They ain't playing with your heart
They eating it
Juggalo lives are full of complications
Are raised to survive on a street education
Always realize that there is a limitation
If we don't
into a duck
He ain't showing up
I can tell from by the way that
He talk that he a bitch boy
From across the street I saw him bang
Lemme pull him up
He
bring him life someday
In the streets at the night all the children say
Case closed just an old soul and so it goes
Where have all the flowers gone
They
war you suckers
Don't want it with me
Children of the sun, eatin' acidic food
Brodee can barely run up the street
I hope you niggas don't run up that
Damn right! Son
Son!
He was a class clown, loved by all around
He was kinda goofy
Make you feel good when you're down
But one day he disappeared
wasting our time.
cre you okay with guns in movies and music, not those exercising their rights?
Why are you okay when black children get shot in Chicago?
Stripping under street lights
I see like three dykes tripping
Can I see right?
Bug on me linger
I feel a tug and I tingle
Like hoe
Like no that
Silence in the courtyard, silence in the street
The powers that be, out by the river, are shuffling their feet
But the night is full of car alarms
would have to deal with me
He was in it in the beginning and through the start of it all
On 24th Street, rappin' for guns and smokes
Write bars
the Kingston young ones over there running scared
They ain't seem to have a problem and its a bad one
Ahh man, Sunz of Man teaching everywhere
got the children
mother's TV
Says she watches too much, it's just not healthy
All My Children in the daytime, Dallas at night
Can't even see the game or the Sugar Ray
of town
Oh what a friend this town has in jesus
If you look at what john roland has tore down
Before the spirit touched his soul
He kept the streets
sprang from the woodwork and shadows
and somebody shouted "hey, kid get out of the street"
some children threw water from a two-story window
it splashed
There's a small town in the mountains where the streets are wide and still
There are children making angels in the snow
The sunset paints the sky
are spinning
Yo I'll see ya'll later on tonight
In the beginning her tears where the long awaited rains
Of a parched Somali village
Red dusted children
Worthy (yeah!)
He's Worthy
Counted by the children
"And for centuries they have been
Surrounded by secrecy and rumor
But tonight Action News has a
Rare look inside their village"
Tomb is open slap
for shorts
And hey night around 12 you hear them shots go off (talk to 'em!)
And know niggas is rats, some boys is wired
And the food in
Sticks and stones organic round buildings
Grounded children but I'm not talking punishment
Advancement out of the concrete
An owl in the woods
Paint
I told her I have loved you since we was children
Playing in the dirt of this very street
She never did play nice even when we was babies
So I kissed
Inhalin' ganja smoke
Countin' mad CREAM, weighin' tons of coke
Guarded by thugs and Rottweilers
I flood the streets with
Drugs and clock dollaz
Niggas get
at night
She holds his hand tight
One by one, her enemies try
To approach her and unfold her clothes
She begins to wonder around them
Kissing cheeks
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