[Verse 1: Ty Law] And I really cannot ignore the pain That I feel when I witness a kid with a pistol Like, "I'll let my forty bang!" And we listen indifferently Like inner cities don't really got warring gangs That'll take in a youth and then make him a shooter Before twenty-four he's slain Envision the kids in the city That deal with all the hazard, living all the havoc Rolling with the semiautomatics Hitting on the avenues They really going savage, Never thought about it Cause they listening to all the rappers And they taught em' that it's cool And everybody wanna pose in the videos With the pistols like it's dope Like bullets don't rip souls outta bodies Folding on the ground like origami Another young one down with another homi Another burial ground with another mommy Who just lost her son to another shotty And she talking to God like, "You shoulda got me," yeah Picture a little youth in poverty Who feels invisible like, "Everybody forgotten me I go to school and they ain't teaching me properly And outside all the gangs own all the property And cops don't care, they only thinking bout locking me So all I'm really thinking bout is hitting the lottery And escaping by getting payment," But they say if you wanna make it you gotta play this Game daily and be a gangster, slinging the cane and Aiming and banging with the flamers at other gangsters They tell him it's a code, you gotta obey it But they don't tell him that no one really will save him When bullet holes rip his clothes and it's getting cold Cause he's gon' die on a road he could've evaded And I'm going bonkers, man look at the parts of Chicago Where people are tossing the hollows So often that people just call it Chiraq But we got all those artists that wanna just talk up the motto That honor's about who's the hardest They lock, load and slaughter on records and all the youth follow And target each other and march into coffins And this can only make a darker tomorrow