Lyrics from Music Workshops

 

 

War Zone

Chorus

Running for my mind, trying to find my life

In this war-zone, to get out this war-zone

 

A path of land-mines, I risk dying every time

In this war-zone, I’ma get out this war-zone

 

V1

What you know about the struggle?

At the age of 13 I was in and out of trouble

Smart mouth so I always had to rumble

Until I seen a youngin my age laid out in a puddle of his own blood

His momma did them hard drugs, so when her son died she took it for what it was

Ain’t love there, spending all her money on a high

In her mind she’s just thinking like I can’t afford to care,

So I shed a few tears for the youngin,

Instead of dealing I’ma turn this rapping into something

I ain’t lying, tell the world man I really come from nothing

No heat, foul house, every night an empty stomach

Yeah, real ish

 

Daydreams of gold watches all on my wrist,

Nightmares of someone hating and emptying the clip

Man, I gotta get rich cuz my homie’s on the block like they gotta hit a lick

I ain’t tryna see them in a cell,

Cuz the money that I make ain’t gonna never be enough to pay their high bails

But the least I can do is send a little mail

Check up on your moms everyday till you touchdown

Yeah, just stay alive until I get the crown

And when I do ya’ll ain’t gotta never touch another pound

No bullets flying, ya’ll ain’t ever gotta hit the ground

We’re gonna make it out this warzone that we call our town

 

Chorus

Running for my mind, trying to find my life

In this war-zone, to get out this war-zone

 

A path of land-mines, I risk dying every time

In this war-zone, I’ma get out this war-zone

 

V2

 

Dammit ya’ll for a blameless cause

You don’t need a call if you’re a man of God

Cuz i stand for mine like all the time

Warzone I don’t need this crime

Cuz it’s never silent, all you hear is sirens

everybody dying, baby momma’s crying

And I’m trying and trying

Not a star of violence, murder-free I’m on a strict diet

 

Warzone , it’s a war zone

It’s a trap house, It’s no more home

Cuz it’s murder she wrote as I murder these notes

I don’t need a coach nor a whistle to blow

I’m kissing this flow like i’m in Mistletoe

Stripclub of my life, as I’m tipping my hope

When I spit then you know

The way the streets is you just get it and go

Rahdee said it first,

 

A home is a curse, now home is the worst,

So everybody listen as I tell my story

We ain’t got food and our school teaches poorly..

So many deadbeats, we’re the co-host of maury

I try to call for help but everybody just ignore me,

Why’s everyday feel like every scene in “Glory,

I try to call for help but everybody just ignore me,

Why’s everyday feel like every scene in “Glory,….

 

Racing The Devil

V1

200 miles on this life track I need to slow down

When I was in the streets eating out the trash nobody came around

They hated and labeled me as a clown,

Mom turned the house into a crack lounge

On the 1st, man they all running in trying to get a quick fix

Poison all in their veins, needles littering the ground

 

I’m just living every day like it’s my last

Before I pass man I hope I make a little cash

Give my dad all the money that he never had

Put him in a jag, new clothes and I hope he brags

Cuz he living down south in the trap house

Got the drug dealers trippin on him tryna kick him out

It ain’t about the money with him I’m around him for the lessons

I was told wise words can turn out to be a blessing

 

So I’m looking for the knowledge,

A lot of people told me I wouldn’t graduate or go to college

(I did it though)

Or ever live to be the greatest,

Do you know how long it took me to develop some patience

Now I get it on my own and I’m like eff waiting,

Either let me in the game or watch a hot youngin take it

 

Chorus

I can’t get off of this road,

Got my foot on the pedal, I’m trying to be settled

I’m speeding before my life pass me by,

Nobody can help me, I’m racing the devil

I’m racing the devil

Where do I fit in this world,

I’m racing the devil

Where do I fit in this world

I’m racing the devil

 

V2

I got my foot on the pedal,

Moving every year but my fam ain’t settled

Ever had a best friend shot, man I got several

I been low for so long you would think I was the devil

 

I don’t see why people hate on me, I ain’t got nothing for you to take from me

I fantasize a good life but it’s make believe

Sunk in a nightmare, somebody wake up me

I can’t eat, I can’t breathe no more

But this is my life so I’m control

And I don’t like nobody so leave me alone

And I’m tired of my home being a damn warzone

 

And it’s good cuz I don’t need no help,

I can do it on my own cuz I love myself

But I’m warm even though the world cold as ice

I got the power in my hands, never rolling the dice

And ya’ll don’t gotta dig me cuz I ain’t no shovel

So why take my foot off the pedal?

 

Poem: Monologue by Katarina Backo

Home. Home is whatever you make it.

It is yours.

Your space, your property.

It can be a separation from the world.

Wherever it is. In Philadelphia or somewhere on the other side of the world. It is where you live. It is where your family lives. It can be multiple places.

Homes are places you go a lot, know and can find.

Home is a free prison. You are arrested and free at your own home.

The bars are your responsibilities and the key to open them is your free will and wishes to live.

You are the host and the guest.

Walking in and feeling new and familiar.

Hosting yourself.

You are the seller and the buyer.

Arranging the new and getting rid of the old.

I am torn between two worlds:

Holding onto my past and finding my future.

 

 

 

Dreams

V1

Life is getting harder, it’s getting even harder

Sleeping on the park bench never being bothered

Bar’s getting slaughtered, always getting caught up

When I grow up I promise I’ma be a scholar

 

The devil got a hold of me down on my knees with my jesus piece

Daddy tell me look above the seas

Can’t you see this is my downfall,

Who can I call nobody,

 

Who really care about me, nobody

Cuz I been on my own for so long, you’d think that my home and cell phone forgot me

 

I catch hell in my footsteps

But jesus got my back

Damn never thought about it like that

Had a dream about being philly’s next best rapper

Don’t judge a book by it’s cover, turn to chapter

 

Don’t understand who rappers love more than their fans

I’ma female, always had to play the man

This war is ridiculous I had to take a stand

And after that I took my bible started praying,

If this is america then I don’t want uncle sam,

If this is america then I don’t want uncle sam,

Damn

I don’t want uncle sam

 

Chorus

Where do dreams go when they die?

Do they disappear or float right up to the sky?

Don’t give a damn about who, what, where or why,

Just wanna hold my dreams for one last time

 

V2

Life ain’t ish if you ain’t got nothing to live for

Or somebody killing your friends you swore that you would kill for

Both your homies rap so when they die who do I feel for,

Working with that perfect person who’s worth getting a deal for,

 

Gotta switch the flow up, Flowers told me to grow up

Momma said to use your head and one day I’ma blow up

My cousin was buzzing before her boyfriend got her coked up

And now my cuz don’t show up, when I see her I wanna throw up

 

Thought about selling drugs for a lil while,

I was tryna make a buck and it sucks for a little child

Dad was on the run everyday of the month

In the middle of the night he dropped us off to my aunt

I asked my dad “what’s wrong?” , he said “don’t you worry son”

He walked out the door crying, first time that I seen a gun

Until I was 11 never really heard of fun…a yo I’m done

 

Chorus

Where do dreams go when they die?

Do they disappear or float right up to the sky?

Don’t give a damn about who, what, where or why,

Just wanna hold my dreams for one last time

 

Poem: Pursuit of Happiness by Markeith Spencer

Home is like living inside a coffin without the bones!

Don’t tell me something I already know, this world… my home..man..

 

Isn’t it enough that I take steps outside my door and hear guns clapping into the air like standing ovations…

I’m hearing voices… maybe dead people …..

Conflicting moans of sorrows, they’re grasping for the flesh I have….

They desire to feel pain again as if they never left their bodies to rot 6 feet below…

 

Isn’t it enough to be the failure that wreaks the halls, who suffers slowly in deep depression only seeing the devils minions that surround him.

 

I feel… sweaty ….I’m nervous to come outside my own doorstep to walk the barriers of hell that melt my intestines…. that makes me sick to my stomach.  I hear yelling… with Jesus walks playing on stereos that blast the sins out of it,  that blast inflicted sorrows…. and only Jesus could crawl to help us but he cannot reach his children now, we are stuck ,we are alone, we are… in hell.

 

So, I feel pain and I cannot shake the feeling that is only gonna get worse…. until the sun rises again,  I’ll smell, hear, touch, taste, and see the same damn things.

 

Chorus

Where do dreams go when they die?

Do they disappear or float right up to the sky?

Don’t give a damn about who, what, where or why,

Just wanna hold my dreams for one last time

 

 

Never Hopeless

V1

It started with Wu-tang and ended with two chains

this how we do things

and i’m too plain to the pain that i felt when I was losing

Embarrassed with the homelessness, a bonus to my opponents

I’m up late night like jimmy fallon and conan

I’m combing, I mean I’m coming, I’m running, dumping, and jumping rope

I mean I’m jumping hope

I’m baaad, like I’m bumping goats

Tryna find somewhere to stay but at that day it didn’t work

My brother birthday had to celebrate it up in a church

people wonder why i’m happy bout that

well my man, that’s the past and the past is just the past

Now don’t ask about my dad cuz that’s just gonna make me sad.

Tryna get rich like Rich Kid, but a quick way to get rich  is to spit this

or get a quick pick of this sentence now listen I’m pissing  intense rappers off with this  sentence

so when you smell my ish, when I get rich aka, Mind your business

 

 

V2

A yo think they understand me, they can’t be

Leave me a van so I can relocate me and my family

I have some dreams who I can be but can’t sleep

And every time I wanna ask someone for help I can’t speak

I need money, it’s funny..

How can we believe we need that pair of sneaks when others of us can’t eat

 

It make me feel like a dumby and still bummy,

And that rumble in my tummy sounding something like a stampede

Please, please father grant me the plan needed to leave this here God forsaken backstreets

I need a home, a real home,

A patio to have a grill on and be with my brothers and get our chill on,

Ain’t that what this country’s built on, I just wanna settle

And experience this life on a high level

And happiness is just that homeboy,

Cuz homeless is never hopeless don’t forget that.

 

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