Gangs, more gangs.

County lines,

Where they fight,

in the bitter night,


all of the cries that echo through the night, like scratching metal.

People die, when they lie,

about their life.

They want attention,

more affection, connection,

so they turn to crime,

but they don’t know what they’re getting into.

Cross – fire takes lives.

Crimes are a secret.

There’s less youth clubs and more youth gangs.

Stay in school,

don’t abandon the rules,

knifes are being produced.

But now we’re losin’,

more lives to more crime.

The records are oozing with suspects of hating.

By placid_meerkat

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