Corner Store
Miss Wraith Gutter
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Fridge is bone-dry, stomach's talking to me louder than the damn landlord.
Just need some milk, maybe bread, the shit you take for granted.
But the corner store ain't 'round no corner, it's a fckin' expedition.
Gotta lace my Timbs up tight, switch my mind to combat-mission.
Peekin' through the blinds, sun is setting, casting shadows on the piss-stained walls.
Same old fckers on the corner, makin' deals and guttural calls.
They ain't your friendly neighbours, nah, they're wolves in worn-out tracksuits.
Gotta walk the gauntlet, play the game, avoid the fckin' trapshoots.
Pull my beanie down low, can't show no fear in my expression.
This ain't a walk in the park, it's urban natural selection.
Hood on my head, eyes straight, I walk the line.
Every step on this cracked concrete is a fckin' landmine.
It's just a trip to the store, yeah, a simple goddamn need.
But in this jungle, you gotta watch your back or you will bleed.
This ain't no paradise, nah, this is the concrete-aisle.
Gotta get the goods and make it back, survive another while.
Past the boarded-up windows where the dreamers used to live.
Now it's just a hollow shell, this neighbourhood don't forgive.
See some young bucks, barely kids, eyes older than their own damn fathers.
Playin' tough with hands in pockets, surrounded by their self-made borders.
I give 'em a slow nod, a sign of mutual, grim respect.
We all know the rules out here, the causes and the fckin' effects.
A cop car cruises by, slow and heavy like a shark.
They ain't protectin' shit, they're just enjoyin' the park.
My heart ain't pounding, it's just... steady. A dull, familiar drum.
Numb to the chaos, that's how you gotta be to not become another one of the fckin' bums.
I see the flickering sign ahead, the 'Bodega' light is buzzin'.
Almost there, just twenty yards of no-man's-land and dirty dozen.
Hood on my head, eyes straight, I walk the line.
Every step on this cracked concrete is a fckin' landmine.
It's just a trip to the store, yeah, a simple goddamn need.
But in this jungle, you gotta watch your back or you will bleed.
This ain't no paradise, nah, this is the concrete-aisle.
Gotta get the goods and make it back, survive another while.
Yeah... Just a trip to the store.
Get the milk. Get the bread.
Get the fck back home.
Survive another while.
Just another day.