Street Corner

[Produced by Bronze Nazareth] [Intro: sample (Inspectah Deck)] Looking on various street corners I'm sure you've seen it yourself Standing on the corner, is an alleged brother Dressed in blue, or green, red and black And starting the news, that the revolution is coming And you better get ready, sort of like (I feel you son) The end of the world is coming, unfortunately (I got you, though) The world is just gonna drag on and on (I know how it is) And we have a poem that we've written particularly (I said I know how it is) For the brothers on the street corners [Verse 1: Inspectah Deck] When the revolution come, you can see me on the front line Firing my gun, standing right beside my son If I go, it's understood that I stood for something When my whole life, they told me, I was good for nothing I was raised by the stray dogs, blazed off, layed off Breaking laws, graveyard shifting every day war Focus now, notice how, things change, soldier I remain the same, I'm older now, I embrace the pain I blame the struggle, nearly drove me insane Thought I lost my head, till my brethren told me the same No tears for the reaper, I've buried bout a thousand In graffiti, "rest in peace" sprayed off throughout the housing I tried to stay civilized, the hood's a prison inside The only difference is the doors don't slide Still we trapped in the animal cage, cause we got animal ways So we react, with the animal rage And my section's real, weapons peel, cheddar's the deal Seen the depths of hell, now I stare, death in the grill From the slave ships, to today's bricks, same shit I'm awake, to the wickedness, and one, with the pavement [Verse 2: Masta Killa] The all great mind stays divine, my hands remain deadly We shine without the hung jewelry, produce light That'll travel through mics, now as the time riping We took words that we nourishing, encouraging A nation to awaken, those who were sleeping Can you conceive the thought? Transatlantic import Slave and bought, secret relations between blacks and Jews Might set a fuse off in the head, many dead Lynch hung, swung from trees Brothers in the struggle together, eat from one pot Hold each other down to the sneaker, nothing come between us Fast money and chicks, did it to the best of cliques It's sickening... huh [Hook: Masta Killa] (x2) It's me and you son, forever in the struggle No doubt, we hustle, survival is the motto Will you soon follow, a better tomorrow... for a better tomorrow [Verse 3: GZA] I catch a few flashbacks about, going through the struggle How we used to make dollars, from all the snow we shoveled In a broke neighborhood, where the kids often dream About a lavish life, that is mostly seen in the screen Where some dreams are quickly cut short, due to gang violence From loud guns, that kept witnesses, in deep silence Was it bad timing? Jealousy from too much shining? Or a set up, from a girl that he wined, kept dining It's a known fact, they will attack, cause it's like that And depending on the, kind of impact, that strike back In a town where the talk is cheap and, beef is brief A mother sobs uncontrollably, and exhibit the grief Large holes in the front door, of a housing tenement Allows room to retaliate, so conflict is imminent This hate in the brain, destroys the cells like cancer Even experts are stuck with more questions than answers