Hood Ryhmes for Ruff Times

My sis lives alone,
smoke weed and sip patron,
with thugs
and street luvs

not a family member she claim,
cuz the ones with her name
gave her away
and she feel shamed
as if she were to blame

so where ever she lay
She is grateful for that stay

one mistake...
she gambles many stakes,
and it got her slameless for money' sake,
shake up for the street's fakes,
but they always come and leave
leaving her fragile until she break
always worst than before
more poor and more sore

She dont even look like herself anymore
runs on the street
like track meet
where the drug money is sweet
and the violent gun clap speaks

I look at my sister and wonder will I see her again
vow to just call to make sure we speak again
she is skinny and wear spandex
unhealthy, below the body mass index

She rather play the fool
then return to skool
she want to be a model
she has no role model

She can't help me no more in life
No advice on life's sacrifice
because she went too quick for gold
never listened to find out what that path would unfold
never thought about what would happen when that gold was stole

"U are not young forever" I told
'The prices of what you do will be collected in whole
then u are left with nothing
feeling like nothing
hoping, wishing you had sumthang'

but street life is nothing but pipe dream
the life is raw and mean
and its promises dont mean a thing

And for her..
fewer friends makes the doorbell ring
because another funeral has come, again
and as the choir sings a song
for her, things feel wronged
and like the tombstone
she feel dirty
she reflects on her hurt

she tell herself to stay strong
and the she goes home
stare at herself inside the mirror
seemingly trying to figure
-----"why did it take so long to know when 'it's gone , it's gone"