The Message
Grandmaster Flash feat. The Furious Five Lyrics

It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder How I keep from going under
Life can be tough and chaotic, leaving me to question how I can keep from collapsing.

Broken glass everywhere People pissing on the stairs, you know they just don't care I can't take the smell, can't take the noise Got no money to move out, I guess, I got no choice Rats in the front room, roaches in the back Junkies in the alley with a baseball bat I tried to get away, but I couldn't get far Cause the man with the tow-truck repossessed my car
The ghetto is a horrid place filled with broken glass, horrible smells, rodents, bugs, and people who could not care any less. I cannot escape because I am broke and lose everything.

Don't push me cause I'm close to the edge I'm trying not to lose my head
I am on the brink of breaking down entirely, and I am doing my best to hang on and stay rational.

Standing on the front stoop, hangin out the window Watching all the cars go by, roaring as the breezes blow A crazy lady, livin in a bag Eating out of garbage piles, used to be a fag-hag Said, she danced the tango, skipped the light fandango Was circon princess, seemed to lost her senses Down at the peepshow, watching all the creeps So she can tell the stories to the girls back home She went to the city and got Social Security She had to get a pimp, she couldn't make it on her own
Life is so unpleasant that people are going crazy and resorting to eating out of trash cans. The girl turned to prostitution because she couldn't support herself after receiving Social Security.

My brothers doin' bad, stole my mothers t.v. Says, she watches to much, is just not healthy "All my children" in the daytime, "Dallas" at night Can't even see the game or the Sugar Ray fight The bill collectors, they ring my phone And scare my wife, when I'm not home Got a bum education, double-digit inflation Can't take the train to the job, there's a strike at the station Neon king kong standin' on my back Can't stop to turn around, broke my sacroiliac A midrange migraine, cancered membrane Sometimes I think I'm going insane, I swear I might hijack a plane!
Bad things keep happening to us, and we can't seem to catch a break. Inflation is rampant, my TV is stolen, my wife is afraid of phone calls, and my job is inaccessible.

My son said, daddy, I don't wanna go to school Cause the teacher's a jerk, he must think, I'm a fool And all the kids smoke reefer, I think it'd be cheaper If I just got a job, learned to be a street sweeper I dance to the beat, shuffle my feet Wear a shirt and tie and run with the creeps Cause it's all about money, ain't a damn thing funny You got to have a con in this land of milk and honey They pushed that girl in front of the train Took her to the doctor, sewed the arm on again Stabbed that man right in his heart Gave him a transplant for a brand new start I can't walk through the park, cause it's crazy after the dark Keep my hand on the gun, cause they got me on the run I feel like an outlaw, broke my last glass jar Hear them say you want some more, livin on a seesaw
The education system is failing us, and vices like drugs are cheaper than obtaining an education. It feels like a con artist is necessary to make it in this world, and grotesque crimes have become normal. I am afraid to leave my house at night, and I feel like an outlaw at all times.

A child is born, with no state of mind Blind to the ways of mankind God is smiling on you, but he's frowning too Cause only God knows, what you go through You grow in the ghetto, living second-rate And your eyes will sing a song of deep hate The place, that you play and where you stay Looks like one great big alleyway You'll admire all the number book takers Thugs, pimps, and pushers, and the big money-makers Driving big cars, spending twenties and tens And you wanna grow up to be just like them Smugglers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers Pickpockets, peddlers, and even panhandlers You say I'm cool, I'm no fool But then you wind up dropping out of high school Now you're unemployed, all null 'n void Walking 'round like you're Pretty Boy Floyd Turned stickup kid, look what you've done did Got sent up for an eight-year bid Now your manhood is took and you're a Maytag Spend the next two years as a undercover fag Being used and abused by the white man And dismissed when your usefulness has ended But, yo, you're better than that Better than that
Life is challenging from birth, and growing up in the ghetto makes it worse. Everyone around us wants to be like criminals and is entrenched into the criminal world. Dropping out of school and becoming a criminal is detrimental to our health, and the aftermath is horrific. We should be better than that.