lirik lagu easier (aka ghetto child) – icey hott
[verse 1: ?]
hard times is here, every day, every year
sacrificin’ my life on these streets with no fear, and
god help my kids maintain on this earth
daddy has no work, and boy shows hurt, see
my kids gettin’ hungry, tuggin’ on my shirt
in the ghetto, where the poor people’s buried in the dirt, and
momma comes home always cryin’ after work
she says her boss flirts, he’s starin’ at her skirt
it’s just another hard times episode
lord give me a strong mind, my eyes closed
just like the homeless with no place to go
where the poor die fast and the rich die slow
i never had a decent home to fix a bed up
[an educator gave me a neck brace to keep my head up?]
before i lose my mind on these streets
lord if you’re listenin’, help me stay on my feet
[chorus]
ghetto child, daddy’s gonna make it real easier, my
ghetto child, daddy’s gonna make it real easier, when it’s
hard to smile, god is gonna make it real easier
just to make it real easier
[bridge]
please–hold on
please–hold on
please–hold on–until i make it real easier
[verse 2: ?]
[?] in the streets of the ghetto
i’m grippin’ my pistol and find it hard to let it go
cause every day i see another brother die
and every night i hear another mother’s cry
now who gon’ be there to wipe them tears from my eyes
[?] when she first realized
her baby is gone and ain’t no way he’s comin’ back
his life was voided from the blast of a gat
it’s gotta get better, but it keeps gettin’ worse
cause day by day, another body’s in a he-rs-
and thangs done changed, the whole game is rearranged
they ain’t playin’ by rules, they droppin’ salt in the game
now hoes is snitchin’, you n-ggas is jackin’
them laws is crooked, so you gotta stay packin’
and your so-called friends, they’re your worst enemies
lord, really get easier, ‘fore they bring me to my knees
[chorus]
[verse 3: ?]
[i can decipher about 20% of this verse]
[chorus]
[verse 4: ?]
childhood was rugged, on an unemployed budget
no insurance or coverage. them sick, so guess they suffer
my daddy’s on a mission, my momma’s in the kitchen
says she’s whippin’ up somethin’, can’t afford the prescription
my brother’s on the couch eatin’ corn flakes and water
while sister’s on the streets, checkin’ phone booths for quarters
my momma’s [?] too much, she can’t pick us up from school
[?] with two jobs and a [?] and
we wait for the news, up in bald, patched shoes
and a freezer full of food–one day, we can move
and maybe get a house, and a brand new car
am i dreamin’ too far, did i really see the star?
oh lord, my god, it’s hard
but my momma made her way, workin’ double jobs
so we never starved. and peace–
to everybody left on [?]’s boulevard
[chorus]
[bridge]
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