“The bullet is already in the brain; it won’t be outrun forever,
or charmed to a halt. In the end it will do its work and leave
the troubled skull behind, dragging its comet’s tail
of memory and hope and talent and love
into the marble hall of commerce.”
― TOBIAS WOLFF, "Bullet in the Brain"
INNER CITY STORIES
Hands up! Hands up! Don't let me catch you with yah hands down!
One shot , two shots, pop pop and then a man's down.
Homeboy I suggest that you just stand down,
I keep the hand cannon on my waist in case a brother got the hands now.
Put the cash in the bag don't get me riled up.
Bouta half hour ago I flipped the henny vials up.
Bouta half hour ago I took six swift hits off a thick spliff, now I'm a mile up.
I hit the kill switch, leave your body in a ditch and I'm all smiles bruh.
See, where I'm from it's easier to sell rock than to sell yourself to an employer.
Big brothers selling their little sisters’ bodies to pay the lawyer.
To keep it a stack, sometimes I wish I could go back,
Worry more about studying than getting lit off the loud pack.
I would stand in the library, and flip pages in the books,
Before I stand where it's real scary and flip hard for the crooks.
But it's too late for that, I need you to open up the register,
Say hello to my friend, his nickname is head-splitter.