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a Crip threw up a sign of cryptic codes
his eyes glazed over cold
pulled out a gun, shot into a fold
why? His blood was ice cold
Cuz had no soul, nor did he know
why he did , what he done, son
he lived his life by the gun
he's no different from a Blood, tho
who does the same, tho, they both
hate to think so, they are the same
coldblooded killers, like a movie thriller
Crips bleed, Bloods do too
and no one cares, what they do
I was there when it all
popped off and got started
a few blocks got, knocked off
the cops in a standoff
dearly departed, I'm brokenhearted
when one killed another
the mothers, held and consoled
each other, in the wake of it all
we all have fallen to sleep
we see, but we, no longer weep
we are all in the sweep
weather it be banger or athlete
no one escapes the heat
where everyone is worthy
to wear a green tear
pressured by a peer
some sale there souls out of fear
why? if death is the option
then, you're already a dead man walking
