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May 2015
By: Cedric McClester

I don’t think you actually understand
I’m from Bodymore, Murderland
Where crime is rampart and has the upper hand
And you can be killed upon demand
Drugs and bodies are all over the streets
But there’s no wire that defeats
This sad situation just repeats
Among poor people that one meets

We’re routinely profiled by the police
Who treat us as if we're savage beasts
We don’t have justice nor any peace
And that’s to say the very least
Our lives are very precarious
So pardon me if I occasionally cuss
Lucky you don’t have to live like us’
We're here today and gone like dust

It ain’t easy living on the bottom
Name your poisons and you know we got’em
Lost a loved one. someone probably shot him
The suspected police, I’m glad they caught ‘em
Yeah, things have gotten tragically out of hand
I’m not kickin’ either dirt or sand
I'm just talkin' 'bour Bodymore, Murderland
Even though you know that I can

Before the riot we were ignored
No one cared you can rest assured
Now they’re sayin,’ Oh my Lord
Even the White House is aboard
I guess we had to raise a ruckus
To get all eyes focused on us
Will they make changes, you know they must
They can't expect us to believe and trust



© Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
Bodymore, Murderland is how people in the hood refer to Baltimore, Maryland.
Written by
Cedric McClester  New York, New York
(New York, New York)   
672
 
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