Where to begin
All ain't good in the hood
When our opinion
Is to be soldiers in the state pen
What is really happening?
Can’t see why some don’t comprehend
Our mental's rotating in a turbulent spin
Unable to turn or blend
Sinking fast like wounded dolphins
The county blues isn’t a fashion trend
Like baggy, saggy jean & blinging medallions
Its equivilent to a sin
Wishing to be an element of prison
Eating the toxin waste of it’s vitamin
Margins are small region
Fitted to the shackle as a second skin
So no matter how much we pretend
Be free from the tree swing in the wind
Come correct and make amend
Don’t get me wrong
Some do belong
But we all can still ascend