Kids In The Street - Hell Razah

I know shorty you feel alone like Macaulay Culkin

That you won’t make it to see forty before you see a coffin

But don’t rush to sell your soul for that fame and fortune

If it ain’t no bigger portrait then it ain’t important

They try to tell you, you an orphan till you metamorphosis

He rolled up, lit a blunt then he started coughing

He said «Raz', what about the chicks and all the cautions?»

I look up the rich quarters and these Ricky Ross'

I grew up in broken homes, had to see divorces

I was born to Marvin Gaye and Diana Ross shit

Seen my pops had to flush his ki’s in the toilet

And all he wanted for his family was a better fortune

He took a toke then he passed me the L

I’m like Howard in hell

It’s Harvard and Yale, we dying in jail

College funds now turning to bail

That’s the coffin and nail

We walk around without no knowledge of selves

There’s gunfire in the schoolyard, 12 years old

They got a plan that’s designed when you design their clothes

Get the knowledge shorty, Wallaby free

You seem smarter then me

See I can see you as the next Spike Lee

He blew the ashes off his white T

Bullets ricochet and blew through him off a stray

A few hours from his birthday

Shit got in his way

As he lay there, holding the shop, begin to pray

Kept coughing up blood, couldn’t hear what he say

All the high pitch screaming, more pressure, he kept bleeding

Check his heart beat and pulse, make sure he’s still breathing

(C'mon Lord) Please walk me through the rest of this evening

(Ayo pass me a phone) (Here!)

Somebody call 911, he said take my gun

If I die would you raise my son?

I said homie look me dead in my eye

I’m right here, by your bedside to make sure they keep you alive

I heard the echo’s of his motherly cries

We had brotherly ties, so when they shot him I felt it inside me

With holes in his right lung, you gon' survive, three