The Ownership of Self-Destruction

We thought that we owned the dark streets
Scattered across apartment basements unseen.
Rolling with the rubbish avoiding the status quo,
But trapped by the system that we called "home".

We hated what we needed, loving what restrained us.
Skipping school, spraying our images on the bus
Just trying to self-identify, yearning for respect.
Always taught to either be a slave or a pest.

The pest was our cry for war among the quarantined
Blocks of flats and houses erased from our dreams.
We were hoping for hell, making it our worst reality,
Until the rebellion made us face the layers of anarchy.

We owned nothing but the jive in our dead steps,
Left with wrinkles of what was and not what's next.
Screwing a system that eventually pierced a hole
Which sunk us into slavery, a form we couldn't control.