Lost in the Ghetto (child gangsters)

A little child with a heart full of pride, Plastic pistol tucked in his waistband tight, Living for the thrill, chasing shadows at night. In the shadows, he’s a king, young heart full of dreams, Struttin’ through the block, lost in violent schemes, Plastic in his grip, thinkin’ he’s the real deal, Living for the thrill, never knowing how to feel. He’s a king in the playground, throne made of dirt, Spitting rhymes like he’s ready to flirt with hurt, But the laughter fades, reality creeps, in this game that he plays, the price is steep. Copped a cap from the corner, said he’s ready to ride, Innocence traded for a life he can’t abide, Friends callin’ out, but he’s lost in the game, Chasin’ shadows in the night, but it’s never the same. One wrong move, the streets turn cold, A flash of metal, a story untold, Life snatched quick, like a thief in the dark, A little child’s dreams turned to ashes and sparks. One wrong turn, a flash, then a bang, Life’s a cruel teacher, and it don’t give a damn, Caught in the chaos, the sirens scream loud, A little boy lost in a world that he could of made proud. Now the block’s silent, no more dreams to chase, Just a memory left in this cold, dark place, A tale of a child who wanted to be, More than just a ghost in a tragedy. Too young to die, but the reaper don’t play, A moment of silence for the price he would pay, In the echoes of the night, hear the sirens wail, A child want to be gangster in the making, but the dream’s gone pale. @mdot7eu3g3g @rapfame_official @rapfame_ar_team