Let`s break it out all of this black-on-black, brown-on-brown, in every town,
because I`m sick of seeing my people`s sketches scattered all over the ground.
Since these murders occur every single day, so put the gun away because I want
to live to see another day. A happy day. Where there`s peace between
nations, love within races and no division in the congregations. No more
pimps and drug dealers on every corner. A homeless people struggling with no
homefreeze and they pump for quarters. I am talkin` about a world of peace,
with no mo` closed caskets if you know rows like most of my homies that have
been deceased. No more murderers, diseases, or suicides, it`s time we all
wake up and wipe the mucus from my sleepy eyes. And straighten things out
like a ruler `cause nowadays, the cart we juggle is full of hate, killas, and
runaways. I`m sick of it, so I`ll be the first brother to shout, let`s
straighten it out `cause together we can work it out.
Chorus-
Let`s straighten it out, from the west side to the east side.
Let`s straighten it out, from the north side to the south side.
Let`s straighten it out, from the east side to the west side.
Let`s straighten it out, from the south side to the north side.
I wish somebody would tell me why, we can`t just straighten out all this mess,
at times I think, my fat should be a bulletproof vest. Got all these homies
claiming south side, west side, east side, north side, Asian, Black, and Brown
pride. It seems that there`s no mo hope, my own people`s send me their guns
and try to push me the dope, I can`t cope. But I gotta, why? Because I`m
sick of all the shots ringing from the sixty-fo and hollas. Remember where we
was familia, where we could kick it and not worry about your own kind killin`
ya`. Seems like all we care about is money and fame, drugs in the game, it`s
killin` me softly like Lauren from the Fugees sang. Man, what`s it gonna take
for us to grow up, before love is the only gang sign we throw up? `Cause all
our peoples headin` straight for the morgue unless we put down the guns and
start to trust in the Lord, let`s straighten it out!
I wonder what could make a man, hit a woman, wit` a ferious hand. Somebody
tell me because I just don`t seem to understand. And then we wonder why y`all
kids is bangin` with none at home, it seems the parents is the one givin` they
kids a trainin`. Beatin` em` down, with your fists and a buckle of a belt.
To prideful to accept that you needed some serious help. So you kept strikin`
like thirsty bats straight out of Hell, but what you did was wrong, stop and
listen to my song. It breaks my heart in two when I see the things you put
them through. Why do you do all the harmful things that you do? Spiritually
guided with decieve and rags on both your wives, not knowin` you was led by
demons when you made them cry. But you didn`t quit till` they finally ran
away from home. Then your wife left you too, and now your sad and all alone.
Just thinkin` about everything your family could have been, so now your
squeezin` the trigger to leave this life of sin.
Lyrics by T-Bone
Submitted by Nick Woodrum (nickshaq@aol.com)
