DA MEAN STREETS

This is darkness
Where people die
Or come thinking they’re going to die
For the inevitable is always evitable
Man, this is the drug-dealing, inhaling, mind-boggling
Projects of …
Well, take your pick of a city
Southeast, D.C., South Central, L.A., Camden, N.J.,
Chester, Pa., oh, listen up
Pop …pop … pop ….
Gun shots, smoke, non-stop disaster
Daylight, certainly during nighttime
A never-ending nightmare
Of gloom and doom
Fear for outsiders, the norm for the everyday dealers
And hookers
All colors included for the white is just as corrupt as the black
And Chinamen and Chinawomen, well they get down and dirty, too
Just as Hispanics who go around speaking mida
Oh Pappy, mommy
Even the humiliating word, cabron
But no matter the talk
Not when there is darkness
Death so close because of a deal
‘Bout to be bad
Maybe, a bag of this, pipe filled with that
Marijuana, cocaine, or mind-altering dust
Yeah, death can come by all means
In the projects, even elsewhere
For the mean streets are all over the Continental USA
Look for them and you will find
What the government knows well of
But ignores, except for campaign seasons
Anytime else
Well, it’s see but don’t see
But we all know
For the darkness is always a reminder
Of how close death could be.