born on the southside, and youre living alone four walls and a roof but its always cold look out the window and theres nothing to see but a riot torn city, the death of your country youre chilled to the bone with no possessions to call your own you control your rage and you resist the crime cause youre the next in line born on the southside, and youre living alone four walls and a roof but its always cold look out the window and theres nothing to see but a riot torn city, the death of your country now youre chilled to the bone with no possessions to call your own you control your rage and you resist the crime because youre the next in line out the back door and to the corner store all you want is a drink and nothing more sit on the stoop and let the liquor soothe your pride before you go inside now youre chilled to the bone with no possessions to call your own you control your rage and you resist the crime youre the next in line you cut in front and youre the next in line you cut in front and youre the next in line you never thought youd lead a life of crime you cut in front and youre the next in line freedoms the only thing you need but the truth is something few understand and an unwelcome reality now its dark and its black and its sad and gone you express and repress the thing gone wrong and you want to be the man who ran away and you wish you could go back to yesterday now hes in her room and hes about to lie so you pull the gun and squeeze the trigger and let the bullets fly..
Posted on: Sun, 05 Oct 2014 07:57:23 +0000
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