

The GangsterI have money and power and girls and cars I have mansions and diamonds. My stuff is far More expensive than yours My stuff is the epitome of cool Your stuff is raggedy. Man, you got holes in your shoes. So why is it That when I turn out the lights And I lay myself down Tryin' to slept late at night It crosses my mind I've got less than you do Even though I've got everything It's worth less than that shoe Your shoe with the hole That lets in the cold Why's it worth more Than this house than I own? Is it because it's all you got? WhThe Gangster


And the RainThe dark, the empty cold that fills the spaces between alleyways. It is in such places that the lowest of the low reside, people who live in poverty, people who have been evicted from their homes, and people, particularly children, who have lost their only means of support in the harsh society they live in. It is here that the alleyway people eat from trash cans, scrounging for whatever scraps they can find. What's more, there is only food for those strong enough to find it and take it. The weaker ones must starve. That is the horrible nightmare that floods their waking realities without any sign of relenting.And the Rain
It was h


Island -Updated-The knife thudded into a wooden cabinet above a young man's head. The knife-thrower, a woman not much younger than the man, readied another knife to fling at the man's head. He moved deftly out of the way of the next knife as well, a frightened look staining his face. "I know what you're thinking," the woman yelled, "You were thinking that I wouldn't be that mad. Maybe you thought that I'd forgive one little incident? Well, you were wrong! Get the hell out of my house!" The man turned to the door and ran, trying to get as far away from the crazy possessive woman as possible. As he left, Pyrrha turned around and fell into a chair, sobbing gentIsland -Updated-


Working for the BossWorking in this room Ain't got nowhere else Stamper coming down Making the boom boom boom Cause my job is slow The job is boring, so I don't put a lot of effort Into my work, nothing to show But at the end of the day Who's gonna be able to say It's my day, okay? Hey, my day off, yeah? My payoff for all the work The blood, sweat, and tears Represented by that ink That stains the papers For you and your neighbors To live where you do To get all your food I'm the gears, the cogs Moving the whole world But do I get the thaWorking for the Boss


PrototypicalYou asked me how I was doing The other night, and I said, Not too well. I stubbed my toe on the concrete. It dont hurt much, but it certainly looks like-- Well,Prototypical
I strolled down that path just the other night, Just to watch the bruise swell No idea what to do when the pain got So bad there was no one I could even tell I took a trip on round to the downtown Strolling down Lown Avenue where the lights dimmed, But the sidewalk was so smooth it never hurt when I fell. Busted crowns on the wrong grounds Made it all sound like torture to no avail. Street
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It's really appreciated.
Xx Natasha
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Xx Natasha
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You shall become my new best friend.
JK
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Friends are awsum yo.
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