I wonder when will we stop crying, 
because there are some things you just can’t fake, 
and I don’t know how much more of this that I can take, 
my heart is about to break.

I wonder when will we stop crying, 
when will the young stop dying, 
when will we wake up and understand what’s clear to see, 
that it’s the blood of our children reported on T.V.

I wonder when Mother’s won’t have to live in fear, 
and not need someone to come and wipe away a tear. 
When oh when? How did this nightmare begin?

I wonder when will this horrendous war end, 
and I’m not talking about Iraq, Bosnia, or Afghanistan, 
but the guerilla warfare here in the city of sin.

I wonder when will there be no yellow tape, for heaven’s sake, 
it seems like the hood just can’t escape, 
the low life punks who keep killing those destined to be great.

I wonder when this too shall pass, 
because at this point we are coming in dead last. 
I know it goes against the theological chapter and verse, 
but it’s like black people are under a curse.

I wonder when will all this craziness stop, who can ease the pain? 
It's like dang! Does every black child have to be influenced by a gang?
 
I wonder when will we put an end to all this madness; 
who will blow away these clouds of sadness, 
and break the community’s reputation for badness?

I wonder when will we ever have a clue, 
that there is more than one way to settle an issue. 
Our children should be having fun; 
instead they feel they need to carry a gun.

I wonder when will we stop lying to ourselves and covering up, 
and face the fact that many black people are jacked up 
and they have misrepresented our race, and that’s messed up.

I wonder when will there ever be a truce, 
and brothas and sistas don’t have to worry 
about the hommie rollin shotgun in the double duce.

I wonder if we can ever begin again, 
and trust our neighbor like we would the next of kin. 
I wish I had the solution; 
cause peace would be in mad distribution.

I wonder when we will be able to stand proud, 
cause its hard when you constantly hear gunshots popping so loud, 
that somehow keeps hitting innocent bystanders in the crowd.

I wonder when will the O.G.’s understand 
that using a gun doesn’t prove that you’re a man. 
If you want to be a real man, 
learn how to teach and protect those in your clan.
 
I wonder when will we not have to worry about wearing blue or red, 
and if we will make it out of the ghetto alive or dead with a bullet in the head.