We die in these streets as if it's fate
blood boiled by tragedy'f hate
so it hurts to see the brothers body dropped
4 more steps needed but his ass flopped
runnin' with that make-shift crew he had
little boys so soft tryna act bad
yet to realize what we goota do
die, get shot, and now we cryin' foo'
but when eyes dry from teary state
mournin' now as we make eerie wait
destinies to die eyes feel dreary
but I hope that the killa's fear me
so I can in these streets breathe easy
instead of clashin' live freely
How can a brotha wipe his eyes dry
endless the questions always ask why
reflection of death in the mirror
strong and able bodied paul bearers
but even though foredestined to die
In my heart I know we'll always cry
we'll always cry
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