By Arcassin Burnham

I know you like the shoes on my feet,
Walking into trouble,
I'm learning everything I could possibly
Know about all of our existences that reside
In smokey flamed wood alleys getting the
Alcohol out of our systems and fornicate on
Who to blame for adultery,
But the only thing on your mind is to blame
And insult me,
I got nothing against you or your armada honey,
Life is already bad enough for us all apparently,
Cause I've been chasing the rain and it shoots the
Roses away from all of the chaos and mischief just
Sitting right at our door steps while handing guns
To the teenagers that don't know any good,
I guess that's why they call it the hood,
(Static).