Owed To A Brotha

by Rodger L. Hilliard



Born in the citi….raised by the street.
Looked up to the gankstas...down wit the beat.
HIP-HOPPIN', TRASH-TALKIN'...straight up STREETWIZE.
Never seein' the tears in your mother's eyes.

Circlin' the block like a bird of prey.
Got ya bank, ya brew and ya twenty-two.
Never suspecting TODAY'S VICTIM was gonna be...YOU!!

Little brotha, so young...so naïve.
Wish I could've known you,
wish I could've told somethin'...made you believe.
You could have been somebody,
done anything your mind conceived

Wanna-Be GANKSTA...HARD ROCK on the rize,
RAT-A-TAT-TAT, RAT- A-TAT-TAT...you're DEAD!!!!
Never...ever...seeing...the tears in your mother's eyes


Owed To A Brotha by Rodger L. Hilliard

© Copyright 1997. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.


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