Tired of the gunshots in my sleep
I never pray to the lord my soul to keep
Cause at night time is when my momma weeps.
See.. she moved us here thinkin it'd be better than the hood
But in reality the hood was all good
I had my girls & my homies..
Now we out here in the danger zone, where no one really knows me.
I been shot at and stabbed a few times..
But these suburbs aint mine.
Kid 2: I feel you man.. I see it in her eyes.
When my momma lies, I know she wants to cry..
See.. She say she happy man, but I know she playin games
Cause this & our hood? This shit aint the same.
I used to wake up to shouts of my name,
Now I wake up in cold sweats
Regrettin this lane.
But Im the only nigga to blame.
Kid 1: True man, this shits a shame...
The hood aint as bad as people proclaim..
yeah.. there are some bad places
with bad faces.. and car chases..
But thats not every hood...
Kid 2: Its cause of the news..
Take out all of the good.
Kid 1 & Kid 2: The hoods misunderstood.
Just trying a new poem method.
Shoutouts to Raysa for the "Coversational Poem" idea.
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