by Joe Dill

Not to knock a brother's hustle
But is it really a hustle?
Standing on the streets serving crack rock
Watching our beautiful black people drop
Wide eyed and losing focus, How you doing? Right on
Dam I know she's depressed in that zone
My people sniff and smoke til their brains clog up
Then the problem is still there, my people what the ----?
Do we do this to feel good, look good
I know it's not to be true because
If you were true to yourself you wouldn't do this WOULD YOU?
My heart goes out to my black women dragging themselves up and down the street
The sole missing from their shoes so you can see their feet
It might sound funny, but my brother it's not
It's you that stand their serving them this Brain Smashing Rock
Then I hear people say we need more black babies 
This is what they scream and shout
Well my brothers how are we supposed to accomplish this,
When the drugs that you serve are wiping our precious black women out

Untitled by Joe Dill

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