The ones left aren’t crying because the drugs have numbed the pain, wandering through these streets it seems we cannot stop the rain.
The Ummah is divided no one here to sow the gaps, the brothers killing brothers and write about it in their raps.
You cannot leave your home unless your adequately strapped, for the shoot out during Dhuhr while the young boys play their craps.
And what about the babies they just wanted to play in their lawn, and what about the righteous who prostrate way before its dawn,
who are up until its late praying and do not sleep or care to yawn, what do we tell the mothers when their babies are long gone?
Philadelphia is bleeding, and I don’t know what to do, because it seems to me the occupants just do not have a clue.
And its sad to even say it but what’s more sad is its true, instead of being loyal to your Lord they say their loyal to their crew.
Muslims shunning Muslims, yet their friendly to disbelievers, everyone’s telling lies competing to be the best deceiver,
while the women raise the men, hiding scars given from the one that beat her.
Maghrib is coming in and we’ve already lost three lives. The sisters want a divorce because he’s not just to all his wives,
he doesn’t have the money and he cannot split the time, so now muslimah’s out past Isha, working ready to lose her mind.
The women no longer know what it means to have humility, the men they love pleasure, but run from responsibility.
And the only excuse they give is “this is what my environment did to me.” But you wouldn’t have time for the streets if you were in the Masjid diligently, consistently, and willfully.
Give no Sadaqa say you hurting,
but you keep a bottle of Bourbon,
keep that dutch filled and at arms reach,
and no one practices what they preach!
Im so tired and if I was like them I’d be one of the one’s leaving.
But I don’t run this is where Im from, but Philadelphia is bleeding…….
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