Ghetto Prophecy

Ghet-to prophecy
Now how do I attack
Or satisfy an explanation
Of issues soon to be fact
Visions of that modern plantation
Back on my rough neck stage
I will wage
For one of two odds
That old saying, "Spoil the child"
If you spare the rod
Is coming back to hit us
Dead in our face
Is that the blood from our lips that
We taste
What a waste
So mny of our young taken
Sent to meet the maker
Before the ticket taker
Would let them in an
'R' rated movie by themselves
So many doctors, lawyers,
writers, and leaders
Book hidden on the shelf
Before they were ever written
Voices gentle like  kien
R. I. P.ed from the mittens
Of life
And delivered to the claws
And jaws of death
Except the chosen few
Those of the selected brew
Whom grew
From the depths of our personal hell
That raunchy smell