City of the 4-1-9, streets sharp as shards,
Broken glass jungle, every step leaves scars.
Singles turn to silence, murders paint the block,
Ownership a myth, time to reset the clock.
Fist over Glock, let’s settle it raw,
Unity the weapon, break the cycle, no more.
Hands up, not for surrender, but to build,
Broken glass city, we mend what we killed.
Corners claim no king, crowns shatter quick,
Territory’s an illusion, just a mind’s trick.
Beef cooked on fists, no need for the chrome,
The block ain’t a throne, it’s just bricks and stone.
Knuckles over triggers, bloodless the aim,
Together as one, let’s rewrite the game.
No chalk outlines, no mothers that cry,
Raise fists to the sky, let the violence die.
[[Verse 1]
Shards on the pavement, the city’s a maze,
4-1-9 where the sun don’t blaze.
Windows shattered, dreams on the floor,
Blood on the curb, another closed door.
[Chorus]
This broken glass city, nobody owns the block,
Knuckles crack louder than a loaded Glock.
Put the steel down, let the fists do the talk,
Come together as one, let’s rebuild the walk.
[Verse 2]
Murders stack up like bills in the hood,
Mothers cry tears, they misunderstood.
Another soul gone, another light dim,
The block’s a chessboard, but no one’s king.
[Bridge]
Drop the beef, pick up the weight,
Buildin’ the block before it’s too late.
Brick by brick, we can rise again,
One city, one love, we break the chain.
Cops roll slow, streets turn cold,
History repeats, the same old mold.
But fists hit harder than the sound of a nine,
Fight for respect, not for headlines.
This broken glass city, nobody owns the block,
Knuckles crack louder than a loaded Glock.
Put the steel down, let the fists do the talk,
Come together as one, let’s rebuild the walk.
Shattered bottles whisper stories of the past,
Echoes of the pain, but this peace will last.
We ain't slaves to the cycle, break free,
From the 4-1-9, let the whole world see.
Shards scatter streets, reflections of pain,
419, but the city’s insane.
Southside scars, where the fiends exchange,
Nighttime shadows, the air feels strange.
Hey, what’s that sound?
Westside woes, where the windows crack,
Dreams of escape, but streets pull back.
Northside cold, ice on the heart,
Driftin' through mazes, no restart.
Eastside grief, tears flood the block,
Time sittin' still like a frozen clock.
Broken homes stacked, hit by the tide,
Each turn signal, death hitch a ride.
Hey, what’s that sound?
Everybody look, what’s goin' down.
Four sides scream, a shattered crown,
Toledo burnin', bodys on the ground
Forget your plaques, ‘cause the city don’t show,
Wolves run wild where the weeds still grow.
Fist over Glock let’s settle it raw,
Unity the weapon, break the cycle, no more.
Hands up, not for surrender, but to build,
Broken glass city,fist over glocks no more loved ones killed.
Poet419
