Young, Black and Broke

We not on par cuz we young black and broke
Life’s got us in a choke, a hold so devastating we
Can’t keep up with the status quo
‘cuz for sho we weren’t born with no silver spoon
No tune of happiness or good fortune
Just the steady drudge of the struggle
Day in and day out
The constant enhancement of mechanisms with which we cope
Hoping, forever hoping, but never achieving
Dreaming of the day we can climb out of this pit
So vast that not even education can bridge it
Playing the ying versus the yang
Balancing the need to be good against the need to be crooked
Because when the checks stop coming in coke, dope, and blow
Whatever you wish to call it – puts food on the table
Makes up finally able to raise our heads above this water call life
So we rob, we sin, we kill
In hopes that our actions will solidify our tomorrows
Sometimes, when the weight of the world is on your shoulders
And when the chips have been stack equitably against you favor
You do what you must
Because it isn’t a gift, it’s a God given right
To live, to breath, to eat