Sha Stimuli - Brenda's Baby lyrics

Brenda’s baby is grown
While I’m out here watching a throne
Trying to reach thugging teens with a poem
Maybe go from unknown to people
Saying Stimuli done blown
The eff up guess what
I just sound like a clone I’m sorry
Spitting it raw but shifting my course
It’s been 15 years without Mister Shakur
And if you think about the shit that he saw
I hope the pictures I draw can come close
‘Cause, I give you my all it’s real
It’s funny to hear my flow
Never dreamed I would be getting
Money to bear my soul
Thinking bout the times and the
Hoods where we reside
Shit is wild Brenda’s baby’s
Like twenty years old
Pac thought the world was cursed in '91
Felt the adverse of the slogan
Live by the gun
I’m still stuck in this game he tried to run
Well he did kind of run it
I’m sad his time is done
But the issues he was bringing up
Stories that he gave
Are the issues still facing us
Call us mental slaves
I ain't talking just blacks
In the hood we all the same
The government sees statistics so Brenda’s
Kid has no name father is her cousin
Grandmother punks her
She hears plenty stories bout being
Left in a dumpster
So she’s not supposed to make it
The ghetto should take her under
You expect her on the pole or
Something since nobody loved her
Mama died prostituting
No one heard her cries
Pac was busy yelling Hit Em Up
When she was turning five
We was worried bout the coastal war
Picking choosing sides bad Boy made noise
Then our biggest heroes died
It was like we lost the Malcolm and Martin
Of our young generation they
Was just getting started
No arrests even made when there’s
Rappers that’s targeted for assassination
They ain’t even pressing no
Charges it’s messed up
The country is falling, disease is spreading
My people are dying
Economy’s hurting the seeds are embedded
With pain and desire to try to
Get the cheese the bread
The papers, the dollars
The politics are keeping us dead
And the labels are losing
And Youtube is winning
The students are stupid
The teachers ain’t getting no
Pay so they missing
The president’s different
He tells us his vision
But then television is probably killing
The minds of the children
The brothers are niggas the sisters are
Bitches the rappers are liars
The mamas are babies the babies are crying
You hear it, thee alarm clocks are going off
Y’all not listening
Little girls are showing off
They big tit's and they asses
The shit’s sickening
Pastors are stick pricking the
Catholic little kids
And I’m rapping this slick shit while the
Haters are stabbing the teens are slicing
America’s chuckling at us
While we rocking our ice and
We think we get money
We making it rain and we paying the strippers
We popping the bottles the owners get richer
They owning the clubs
And they owning the drugs and
They owning the liquor
We taking the shots and
They keeping the picture it’s real
The music is weaker the albums ain’t selling
We talking bout nothing the
Albums ain’t selling
We talk about hustling, clapping and selling
And half of us was really
Clapping or selling I
Used to rap like you I was seven