Rainy Night

The rains watercolour truned red
As the bullets got to his head
The little boy was on the street
Trying to earn some bread
So that he can get his little tummy feed

 
Thats the harsh reality of this game
We were born to play.
The boy was just SIXTEEN
Everyone saw him as your normal teen
But no one had a clue of what he do.
 
 
Every time his momma got the flue
He knew its time to get on the prusue
To flip a bag or two
No crew but the boy grew through
His early teens flipping bricks like it aint a thing
 
 
Use to scream "Ima be alright"
Every time he went out
But not tonight
Cuz he about to get shot
From point blank
 
 
And end up in a boddy bag
For trying to do his moms some right
By selling dope on the wrong street side
Wasnt happy with the piece of the pie
He was gettin and got caught steppin.
 
 
Left his momma heart achin
3 days later she was found dead
With a letter and gun placed
Next to her head
The text on the letter read
 
 
"He was my only reasson
To stay believing, breathing & eating
Preffered to be placed by his side
Then to watch him go alone
To the othere side "