East Baltimore

Look how we've grown.
Man came from the dust, and women from bone.
Life plays a sweet sound like a saxophone.
Music is like today's Rosetta stone.
You feel understanding through lyrics,
I seen the worst of things so I try hard to heal the spirit,
Over rhythm and drum, I tell the story of these Baltimore slums,
Grew up in a row home on Erdman ave, Proud of the little things we had,
Mama worked next to the Claremont projects,
where I seen women treated like objects
and heroin became ready, now sweet dreams to Mrs. Betty,
OD in the driveway, where we play,
Now I was two when our house got shot,
and my dad ran after my moms purse, cuz there ant no cops.
We always fighting for something,
I guess better something then nothing.
We hustle and build, I see Baltimore cotton fields,
Deep hurt nobodies tryin to heal,
People believe their trapped, so they survive off that.
Everybody tells me they wanna escape,
but the rough look in their face, tells me its to late,
and now I went to college, the first in the family,the first on the block,
I just got home and a young brotha was shot,
It's a blood battle, and a struggle to stay outta trouble
Its complex, I need a moment to let it all digest,
I drive my car past the old freedom way projects,
but they tore it down and called it progress,
family's in the street, they stacked up in the bungalow, 5 generations deep,
And there ant shit to do, so you see where the corner might take you,
and maybe if your lucky it'll make you, and if you an't it'll break you,
but worse and most often the corner will take you,
The street pulls you under,
And wit tears and relapsed mothers
My heart burns and wonders....




-AIM