Short Story

[Geno]

..a thug whispers, man, how'm i gone get it today
Blunt rolled up, lit, smokin' that shit to the face
In the PJs, drugs, paraphernelia, crime
Little weed bags, everywhere, cause they sell it in dimes
Broken 40oz glass, trash, empty package of ports
Ciggarrette butts, rust, on the basketball court
Bad habits are born daily, and kids with no dads
Either shot up over dice, went to prison, or stabbed
Some hit it and quit, and dont know theres a kid that exist
Others ran away, cause they couldnt live with their bitch
Just another block bastard baby, angry, nothing to see
Where the cool thing to do is sell drugs to the fiends
Coulda went to school -nah, had to off my package
Need to buy some J's and a chain, im a flossy savage
Not a drop of brains, i cant even spell my own name
But i did cop some yeezy's at the mall with my change
"Sheeittt, in 10 years, ima be the boss of my se.."
Cant get them syllables out, drive-by bullets lodged in his neck
Coulda been earnin that diploma, he was post with his drugs
Rival gang crept past, blew the smoke from his lungs
Just another young body, chalked out on the block
Cant even find his moms cause she suckin dick for a rock
Bled, from the hole in his head, another cousin the cost
Blue rag around his necks red, from the blood that he lost
Brrraattt!!!