People were scarred before the third world came/
Hoppin on the train/ outside it starts to rain/
95% felt the hunger and the pain/
While 5% are ballin in the money and the fame/
From stolen cars and guns/ graduated to the ‘caine/
Their market was the youth wit blood cruising thru the veins/
With politician dreams of fieldin calls and switchin lanes/
Campainin for a ballot/ that’s an X beside the name/
Diplomas on the walls with the pictures in the frames/
Plus the newspapers and the local magazines/
The teens around the corner start to dream/
Of movin out the hood with the same crooked scheme/
Chasin after green/the jealousy make em scream/
My music in the background/ a Rap Scholar’s theme/
A spit kickers dream/ inspired by the scene/
Supplied by a cabbie tryna keep his hustle clean/
Thinkin cream, but/
Wouldn’t you shoot? / If you were told to shoot/
When the youth run amok/ up in the streets start to loot/
Takin down the spears and machetes from the roof/
While the heads are preachin deep revolution from the booth/
The governors/ the MP’s/ they shoulda told the truth/
But they rather sport the suits/ than meet the problem at the root/
Of course we aint better off than we were before/
But let me drop this/ this is my majority report…
