I see teenagers sagging jeans...
I smell something behind the leaves...
I know they’re blowing weed...
I see a single mom with three kids...
Cramped up on motorcycle seat
I see kiosks and provision stores...
With sales girls looking bored
I see men with six packs…
Molding blocks to earn jacks
I see a man in huge wears...
Feeling Jamaican with long dreads
I see fellas drive by…
Rocking jams on the high
I see a stubborn kid in school uniform running...
His father pursuing and yelling, "keep running!"
I see small churches scattered like seeds...
Big speakers blaring into my dreams
I see a pregnant woman drink Chelsea...
Draining to the last drop like a delicacy
I see a patrol truck stop by a joint...
And cops drop to help their guts
I hear a landlord raise his voice...
And the tenant bark in response
I see the orange sun set...
And daylight begin to fade
I see damsels giggle past in bum shorts...
Nips pushing out from spaghetti tops
I see a drunk curse aloud…
He says, “Lord let me die now!”
I hear a bottle burst…
A vexed youth ready to hurt…
I see the truck again…
Siren in the air…
But no one is left…
This is how we live…
Welcome To My Street

What Happens On Your Street?

More@ www.gistcreek..com

dope rhymes... keep it up. hood dreams

Well put. Good draft