Hustle for Life (New Hip Hop Music) by Renaissance the Poet

(Lyrics)
Streets are alive
With the hustle for life
Man on the corner
with end on his mind
Jesus Saves
What you read on the signs
But its Hard to tell
from the scope of the lies
Death in the veins
See the truth in the eyes
Pray to the what
Watch it darken the skies
Rims on the ride
That’s the rich roll on by
Girl in the stoop
Beggin somethin to buy
Nap knotted hair
Bags everywhere
Life on the block
But the People just stare
No where to go
Why would she care
Nothing to give
She Filled with despair
Doesn’t wanna to live
never been fair
Always felt odd
That much has been clear
A little outta place
In the race, and the case
Is that rats in a maze
With their hunger ablaze

Will lose ever trace
Of the face that they had
Turn on each another
Till tummies turn glad
That’s a gun in the jack
He Pullin the strap
What he learned in the rap
Is the money come fat
What it mean to be Black
Is ya packin the stacks
Hundreds and fifties
And ya fast on the mack
Wagin, War on ya own
Till the gate at ya back
St. Peter at the entrance
With his hands on the map
Finally set free
From a Life long trap
He wrapped in boxt
hat never endin nap
To die a good death
What’s better that
If not to be rich
Then not to be bitch
Cuz cowards die quick
May live a little bit
But their image is shit
Ain’t got no heart
And that is far
From being Par
With the mark of dogg
Dyin BIG, livin small

A slave to the rich
Another turn snitch
Succa packin books
Gettin mixed in the twis
tHoles in his sneaks
can’t afford no kicks
Spent on tuition
His dream is a mission
But he missin the kissin
Doin math in the kitchen
Wantin out the ghetto
Cuz this gimmick isn’t livin
Never knew his father
nother man in prison
3 strikes hit him
& Sent him down river
Like he had a decision
A choice in position
Economy dippin
& Jobs been stringent
No education
teachers went missin
Like the rent, the food,
The Electric bills and
So, he hit the streets
With dope in possession
To keep himself safe
He was packin a weapon
Then sold to the wrong
Turned out to be a cop
That’s all it took,
Like that, he was gone

So, never knew his father
& his mother never home
He know where she be
But, never think on
Ashamed,
cuz of how she meets
The needs of the weeks
Bringin in the CHEESE
How she Pays the rent
Buys what he eats
Keeps him in clothes
Puts shoes on his feet
Roof over head
All the books that he read
Every thing he is
Is owed to what she did
she, Grew up the same
But, the game ain’t fair
Not, for a woman
Hungry kids in her lair
Then be surprised
That what she’d never do alone
Changes real quick
When there’s children at home
And a man will divest
His purse of the rest
Of his cash and his checks
For a chance to invest
& molest her breast
And shatters her pride
When it comes to the sex
The apex
Of her moral conquest
And utter Distress
she resorts to drugs
To quite the stress
At first, a means
To cope with the mess
But soon, She’s lost in the hell
With the rest
Strung out
Doped out
The end never come about
Needles in the corner
Dying all she ever think about

This on his mind
Hittin books on the grind
Doing every thing he can
To make a better life
But, times have been hard
He fallin behind
He doesn’t look the same
See the end in his eyes
When his grades start slippin
& The pressure up & quickens
begins to lose hope
he can make his own footprints
Stead of follow dad’s
Right into prison
The only difference
He had a decision
Not like, the man
On, the street, with the sign
Old age, bent cage
Near blind, crook spine
Denied, confined,
despised, resigned
display signs
But what it reads
on its only line
Silent
but The loudest Scream
cut through the ages
every fiber of being
This decadent, vagrant
Fallin, caved in
Misses by the system
Even though that it made him

Hopeless, how he wrote it
Totin despair
wishin that somebody care
Enough to spare
Time enough
To see what is there
On that cardboard sign
Scribbled in felt
A life of trouble welled
Spilled and dispelled
into 4 letters spelled
The surmise of his life
And the same is true
For everyone else
& The sign read
Simply,
HELP…

The Streets are alive
With the hustle for life
It’s easy to see
But, we like to deny
This hustle ain’t shit
& these people will die
They’re not like us
All they had to do was try
It’s not my fault
This world is contrived
rich above the poor
Grindin, riskin their lives
For a piece of the pie
Bein spoon fed lies
just the way it is
Underneath these skies

But, if I care, for my own
Then I’ll, be, alright
Cognitive Dissonance
Used to defy
Just-if-ic-ation
to cope with the lie
that the response we need
doesn’t require
People to rise
Open their eyes
Seek and devise
A way to revise
How we’re livin our lives
Marginalized
here is the end
See the truth in our eyes

Help, is what you
Hear in our cries
& not because
We’ve have never tried
But rather because
We’ve been denied
Consigned, front line
War on Prime Time
We fight, by right
To have, their life
Even if you make it
A crime

This is why the streets are alive
& This right here
Is a Hustle for Life

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