Midnight Crossroads

Late night, corners talk

Chalk lines where we used to play

Lil bro learned math in grams

Teacher was a busted safe

Red eyes, hoodie low

Mama praying through a prepaid phone

Judge hit pops with a football number

So we learned to run these zones

Hand-to-hand, same staircase

Same piss, same old paint

Gun tucked by the boiler room

Where we carved our names

This block don’t love you back (nah)

It just teach you how to act (facts)

Blood on the Air Max, angels in black

You either learn or you turn into that

This block don’t love you back

OG said “shorty, think

You gon’ die for a color in ink?”

Whole gang packed in a one-room spot

Arguing over who bought the drink

Lil homie hit first lick

Next week, name on a mural brick

Candlelight smoke in the winter wind

Mama asking why God so sick

Phone buzz, “slide, we on”

Revenge talk sharper than a chrome

But every name tattooed on skin

Make the whole hood feel more alone (real)

This block don’t love you back (nah)

It just teach you how to act (yeah)

Blood on the Air Max, angels in black

You either learn or you turn into that

This block don’t love you back

How many cousins in cages?

How many friends in the dirt?

How many legends at fifteen

In a picture on a shirt? (too many)

This block don’t love you back

It just teach you how to act

Blood on the Air Max, angels in black

You either learn or you turn into that

This block don’t love you back (never)