Another Statement

Intro

Uh, listen..

Beat Starts

Verse 1

Corner store light flickers on Amsterdam, 2 AM

same cats on the corner since I was ten

they don’t wave no more, just nod and then

guess I changed, or maybe I’m just condemned

Heard the shots echo, then I saw the crowd forming

his moms came running out, still in her work uniform

screaming his name like it could reverse the mourning

I kept walking — death here comes without a warning

Phone already buzzing, everybody asking who it was

I don’t text back, just another Tuesday ’cause

another name added to the wall down on 145th

I used to know his laugh, now I just know the myth

They’ll paint a mural, say he was an angel, call him blessed

but he was just a kid who never made it past his sixth

his little brother still wears his chain across his chest

swears he gonna ride for his brother, but shit, I just hope he don’t

The cycle keeps repeating, bodies stacking like a deck

and every card that falls just deals another hand of hope

I seen it all before, the candles and the teddy bears

the RIP shirts printed up before the body’s even cold

Mamas holding photos, begging someone say they care

but by next week it’s back to normal, same story being told

remember Marcus? caught a stray outside the bodega

wasn’t even in it, just went to get his moms some bread

Now his little sister asks when he’s coming home, they never told her

how you tell a six-year-old her big brother’s dead?

or Jamal, who had a scholarship, was bout to leave in fall

one night, wrong place, wrong time, that’s all it took

They say the good die young, I’m starting to believe it’s true

the ones who try to make it out get pulled back in

like the streets got quota, gotta take a few

before they let anybody actually win

I watched my neighbor OD on the stoop where we used to play

same spot we rode bikes, now he’s gone, can’t ignore

his moms still sits there sometimes, staring at that space all day

like if she waits long enough, he might walk back through the door

Hook

These streets don’t love you back, they just take and take

watch your brothers fall, then forget ’em by daybreak

cold city, cold hearts, cold nights on the pavement

you either make it out or become another statement.

Verse 2

Three years back, my cousin caught a case he didn’t do

they needed someone and he fit the description, so they knew

seven years gone, came home different, that’s what prison brew

eyes don’t meet mine the same, something inside him they withdrew

I was eight when my pops dipped out and never came back home

ten years old, already knew which blocks I shouldn’t roam

moms worked doubles, I was out here learning on my own

which corners had the fiends, which had the cops patrolling zones

By fifteen I was posted on the block with my own strip

pockets full of bills and a nine tucked on my hip

running packs for older heads who never learned my name

just another young nigga playing in a grown man’s game

Saw my first body at thirteen, slumped against the fence

didn’t even flinch, just stepped around the blood and kept it moving

that’s when I knew something in me switched, lost my innocence

the streets don’t ask permission when they start the proving

My homie Derek used to talk about opening a shop

fix cars, go legit, get out before it was too late

caught two to the chest over some shit he ain’t even want to cop

now his daughter’s growing up asking why her daddy couldn’t wait

I remember when we used to hoop until the streetlights came on

now half the team is gone, the other half is doing bids

the court’s still there but ain’t nobody left to carry on

just empty nets and memories of when we all was kids

Sixteen, I watched my mans get beaten by the cops

they said he matched a suspect, left him bleeding on the ground

no charges filed, no justice, just another story that stops

another voice gone silent, another truth that won’t be found

I tried to leave once, got accepted to a school upstate

but moms got sick and bills piled up, so I stayed behind

sold my dreams for quick cash, traded future for immediate fate

now I’m twenty-two and feeling like I’m running out of time

They glorify the struggle but don’t talk about the cost

how many funerals you attend before you’re old enough to drink

how many friends you bury, how many battles lost

how the weight of all this death don’t give you time to think