These Doors

I can't write when there's shit on my desk

Gives me jumbled up thoughts creeping through my head

But I'm too tired to clean up this mess

This is what you get

 

I said I'm sorry for the yelling at all the pointless

I said I'm sorry for the times that I ain't do my best

Sorry to myself for giving so much less

When I have so much more

Pretty happy with where I live

Cus a nigga don't always get to grow up in the place I did

Where the guns ain't an issue, and death is big

Every soul matter not just statistics

Feeling blessed I was never in that hood

But I get the gang violence that be in that hood

So I know you got to watch out for the warm days

Because that is when them gun sprays

And we know that ain't no good

Chance said he was praying for rain

Lupe said that his niggas was slain

Kanye had to get that brain

So they could all reach fame

And give back again

Maybe it's just me but I'm jealous they have a sense of community

I rep the 732 but the fam shit is new to me

I love the area and all that it do for me

But all that city banging pride man it never got through to me