http://rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=269944
[B]Letter From A Ryder-[/B]
Sirens screaming, esas wailing—pierce the silence
Rosa saw her vato getting shot up from the back.
Maté saw her brother as he hit the rack…
Running 2 the side of his fallin’ homie Spyder
Watch—here comes Jefita…screaming from the side &
Crowds, u’d think, would gather
But the gente knows the drill—
Back inside ur casa, when the bullets fly, 4real
Innocent bystanders always have 2 pay a price
U don’t wanna b the family hit on from both sides.
I think they call it ‘friendly fire’ in the Forces
But these streetz r the ruffest, the tuffest, u know it
Nobody names the bullets, u just hide out from the Game
Or u try with all u got 2 fight, but
Retaliation is Its name.
Life is coming 2 arrest u…payback is a bitch
Hold tight 2 the shoulders of ur daughters—
The Game we live just used 2 b 4 vatos
Now we step up with the quickness
We fulfilled the prophecies—products of the streetz
Here comes all the homies,
They pullin’ out their 9’s
Jumpin’ in their rides…cruisin’ 2 the Other side.
Here is where it all begins, here’s where it will end
The sounds of crime, we live our lives around them.
Somebody once said that ur bound 2 pay a price
Livin’ with the cuete, growing up 1 life.
Now it’s been an hour, the gente stands with power
We all knew that it was over when the shots flew thru the air
Nobody calls the jura, they say that their 2 scared.
The way we live, the way we die—
U live the streetz, u breathe the streetz…u’ll go out straight up soldiers.
No one touches nadie 4 fear of their own lives
Why end up a partner in the awful scenes of crime?
In these streetz, no time 2 sleep
We’re rollin’ 2 their side—now u’ll see pachuca’s ride.
We’re strappin’ on our Glocks
No need 4 a permit cuz our opposition’s shot
The cuete burns our fingers, waiting 4 its cue
A finger on the trigger from oppressor straight 2 u
The shot will leave a bitter wind,
Wherever it may blow…the only thing la raza trip on
Is the other Barrio.
As we fly down the 99, the homegirlz reminisce
Sharing old luv stories, talkin’ ‘bout their kids
Alma talks of pleasure mixed with pain
A consistent combination…that which we all live in vain
I remain in silence looking @ the stars
Knowing what is coming, hoping they don’t fuck with ours
And like b4 we’re damn near sure that here we’ve sealed our fate
A failure 2 society…pulled over by the jura
Now labeled failure 2 sobriety
An affliction we all live…coaxed by drugs and crooked cops—
Killin’ is our high.
Livin’ life as it comes,
Now ridin’ down avenue 5
Searching 4 the G’s—the 1’s who brought old Spyder 2 his kneez
Just cuz we wear mini’s don’t mean we don’t lock
We hold 2 the fullest all that’s from our block.
