Multitasking dueling with a hand gun

Bullets like equations because they always rounding like fractions

Battle on the streets like drill sergeants ready for action

Break it off and they pay like a ransom

Young teens and feigns stand on empty street corners

Violence and drugs the only thing that seems to love them

People walk back and roll their eyes because they so quick to judge them

I challenge you to ask like where’s their father

Running through life trying to maintain

Just a rat on a treadmill remaining the same

Take a stand and make a difference

Or were lost and just another statistic in life

Will trouble always remain?