Drama

                                A little bit of attitude

Another sister impregnated

Another accidental product of a mindless twosome.

Another brother incarcerated

Politicians they call us the modern Sodom.

Now we got a new barbershop around the corner

Thanks to the system college dropout increasingly normal.

The streets are more or less unsafe

We on the bloody failure’s backtrail.

They call life a picnic

While the ghetto kid’s rationing meals.

The essence of power they abusin’

We workin’ our souls sick

They busy talkin’ sh*t.

Have a young chap share his thoughts on the future

He’ll lay it on you it’s a defect of nature

He was ever born or preserved by nurture.

Can you picture the dilemma?

Situation’s full of drama like King’s Dreamcatcher.

It’s hanging way all up over our heads

Like the sword of Damocles

Holding on to nothing but a strand of hair.

We await the promise of a ghetto miracle.

If you never been to this side of the line

You ain’t know what it means to survive.

It’s like sweet goodbyes and sad hellos.

Still a ghetto star’s never known to compromise.

In the ghetto, it’s like we locked up

Ya’ll in the hood and everything’s just clogged up:

Mama’s got a trade,

Papa’s got a spade,

Big brother’s got a shaving blade

Oh, and that’s for the barbershop.

Little sisters weaving braids

And now you know what’s up.

Politicians spitting heresies

Mouthing murderous blasphemies

But seriously, no one’s seen their taillights recently.

Society inflicting pain on bleeding injury.

My homes subjected to penury

The government ya’ll penny pinching.

Ghetto children sinking

I know some defeats’ more triumphant than victory.

We intend to change the situation

Consequences of the impasse,

Yes, we can. We full of ammunition

Redirecting our energies like a compass.

The tragedy won’t come to pass.

Got the masses

Chewing grasses

Sweating their a**es

Rulers making passes

Let’s skip these classes.

The program’s busted

Me and my crews the most wanted.

The charge?...

Gang related.

Trying to get us annihilated.

Well you know they say,

Don’t sweat it.

Raised in the ghetto for dilemma,

The nation ain’t helping matters.

We feel a hunger for survival.

The pressure’s

Way beyond measure.

If you believe we was the future

How come we ain’t treasured?

I’m burning my brains out

Trying to find the way out

It’s hard to stay on the grind

I’m freaking out on the inside.

Picture the tears in the kid’s eyes

Yet, hypocrites entertain us with lies.

Waddup in this mother?

Don’t know ‘bout chu but we call it, drama.

Akpan