Icey Hott - Easier (aka Ghetto Child) lyrics

[Verse 1: ?] Hard times is here, every day, every year Sacrificin' my life on these streets with no fear, and God help my kids maintain on this earth Daddy has no work, and boy shows hurt, see My kids gettin' hungry, tuggin' on my shirt In the ghetto, where the poor people's buried in the dirt, and Momma comes home always cryin' after work She says her boss flirts, he's starin' at her skirt It's just another hard times episode Lord give me a strong mind, my eyes closed Just like the homeless with no place to go Where the poor die fast and the rich die slow I never had a decent home to fix a bed up [An educator gave me a neck brace to keep my head up?] Before I lose my mind on these streets Lord if you're listenin', help me stay on my feet [Chorus] Ghetto child, daddy's gonna make it real easier, my Ghetto child, daddy's gonna make it real easier, when it's Hard to smile, god is gonna make it real easier Just to make it real easier [Bridge] Please--hold on Please--hold on Please--hold on--until I make it real easier [Verse 2: ?] [?] in the streets of the ghetto I'm grippin' my pistol and find it hard to let it go Cause every day I see another brother die And every night I hear another mother's cry Now who gon' be there to wipe them tears from my eyes [?] when she first realized Her baby is gone and ain't no way he's comin' back His life was voided from the blast of a gat It's gotta get better, but it keeps gettin' worse Cause day by day, another body's in a hearse And thangs done changed, the whole game is rearranged They ain't playin' by rules, they droppin' salt in the game Now hoes is snitchin', you n***as is jackin' Them laws is crooked, so you gotta stay packin' And your so-called friends, they're your worst enemies Lord, really get easier, 'fore they bring me to my knees [Chorus] [Verse 3: ?] [I can decipher about 20% of this verse] [Chorus] [Verse 4: ?] Childhood was rugged, on an unemployed budget No insurance or coverage. Them sick, so guess they suffer My daddy's on a mission, my momma's in the kitchen Says she's whippin' up somethin', can't afford the prescription My brother's on the couch eatin' Corn Flakes and water While sister's on the streets, checkin' phone booths for quarters My momma's [?] too much, she can't pick us up from school [?] with two jobs and a [?] and We wait for the news, up in bald, patched shoes And a freezer full of food--one day, we can move And maybe get a house, and a brand new car Am I dreamin' too far, did I really see the star? Oh lord, my god, it's hard But my momma made her way, workin' double jobs So we never starved. And peace-- To everybody left on [?]'s Boulevard [Chorus] [Bridge]