The flowers are Roses and the roses are Golden
The gun is nickel plated the tip of bullets are hollow
They all stand around at his wake while their casket are closing
The familys mourning shedding so many years for the falling
mothers are sobbing asking to the sky God why as they holler
Father's are no where to be found lock away to ti mislead the youth from the knowledge
Brothers keepers keep running threw the streets all threw the neighborhoods seeking out revenge
A deadly vicious cycle that will end until each one reach one to needing to be taught different and stop playing right into their hands
The puppet master if you will pulling strings oppressing the victims families of modern day salves And...