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Walking in the subway |
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Alone late at night |
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New York City gangs |
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Everywhere in sight |
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You feel their anger upon you |
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You feel their hatefull eyes |
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Walk a little faster now |
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You're fighting for your life |
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As they walk on closer |
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A sign that you board soon |
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You've come this far, no turning back |
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We hope you make it too |
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Don't expect, sympathy |
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We don't know, the word |
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You walked my turf, insanity |
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But in this place you die |
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Your life is wasted |
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Your blood is tasted |
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As it drips down the blade |
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You didn't make it |
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You couldn't take it |
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You walked the subway you paid |
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Your money's gone |
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Your clothes they're torn |
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You're lying in a pool of blood |
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You know you're leaving |
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We watch you grieving |
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But in this place you die |
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Don't expect sympathy |
|
We don't know the word |
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You walked my turf, insanity |
|
But in this place you die |
