170
The streets of the brave,
The home of the cradle to the grave,
This is the world of pain,
Where evil maintain,
While the good get slain.
Trust no one;
So many died young,
So many own a gun,
Why waste time trying to have fun,
When everything we do is a rerun.
Sex, drugs, & violence is all we know,
It's our way of life in the ghetto,
It's the way we live at 170.
Forever there's trouble,
Forever caught up in the struggle.
Searching for answers,
All there is more questions,
Life comes with no perfection,
But some go the right direction,
Others go to prison;
After years past,
They learn their lessons,
In the end they say why didn't I listen.
Copyright © Dyanand Heralal | Year Posted 2010
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