Colored Pencils

Strivin' to be true
'specially ta yerself
the hard part is in knowin'
what to put onto th' "shelf";

doin' whatca wanna do
insteada doin' whatcha should,
thassa regular week inside th' hood.

Explainin' unto everyone
this thang thas called the "drag"
but really alls it seems ta mean, is...
don't get caught holdin' th' bag !

No matter what is happenin'
I want it understood,
one must obey the rules inside the hood.

I've been livin' down here
not really against ma will,
in my hearta hearts, I know whas right
it's the opposite, gives me ma fill;.

I lead by my example
and've done the best I could,
there's no life afta death when in th' hood.

be careful if yer trespassing
at night yer not sa large
the scandalous and the pit-bulls
now they're th' ones in charge !

So lock yer doors n' winders
and keep safe all thas good,
they're out n' about to getcha in th' hood.

Then suddenly.....th' dawn breakes
n' ya can count up all yer losses
the roads are marked with weary souls
n' sometimes, flowers n' crosses.

Jesus was a carpenter
and he died onna piece a wood
n' he's th'only thing that can change things inda hood.

There are childrin' without dads
mothers crying alla lone
n' if n' emergency happin's
thas no one witha phone,

but things can't last forever
whether or not they're bad or good;
let's celebrate the message of th' hood.

Life is butta mind set
the place doesn' make things, hard...
but there is such a thing
as having too much, in yer yard;

so please don' start talkin' ta us
'boutta place ya never stood...
there's a lotta stuff, goin' down inside th' hood.