looking on various street corners i m sure you ve seen it yourself standing on the corner is an alleged brother dressed in blue or green red and black and spouting the news that the revolution is coming and you better get ready sort of like the end of the world is coming unfortunately the world is just gonna get dragged on and on and we have a poem that we ve written particularly for the brothers on the street corners yo standing on porches in front of houses and corner stores i m born to more horrific than syphilis cuz where we live is hell on earth where was heaven when shit s real we sold dope to get mill for white folks in smith field fuck israel it s kill hills spilt pills for my bill write wills for my seeds to live from who take some who give some for brothers that was lynched hung the symptoms never go away a stir away from colder ways having ramblings and savages blessed from us asking this whole cross is more rust in florida oranges and lost orphans i offer thought for food in full courses i ve soared into the night glow my hat s low my roots grow for you to soon know i reap what you sow we just land down from liberia young black man in control of the pillars millions buried in dirt how many railroads do you own how much clean chrome you own this for my ancestors names engraved in stone on the roads where the rebels once roamed we built homes civilized our own king solomon childs beautiful as black this time we will walk on water this time we will see through the lies this time prepare troops to move in expand the runways build bigger bridges nine millimeters from brady we living in war so prepare for submission apache helicopters a black man s face on a dollar the pigs constantly watch us the streets is obnoxious baby of the first nine homey in toxic  the first seed of a dope fiend she a d d needle parked off spring bourgeoise wanna be while her siblings is rich living she ain t bitching mama s working two jobs try nna maintain a living few years passed now she s getting raised by the streets side by side watchin hustles now she blazed like the streets this is for my women living in the struggle getting brought into this world without asking for the troubles of the every day life life a battered wife a single mother s holding it down while the world so trife crack fiend you could of been something better in life now hold your head up ma you know it ain t over right yeah this is for my russians on the grind off the boat struggling try nna hold a nine to five yeah i seen enough with these eyes i thank the most high i m still alive