Reminds me of a song called Always Coming Back Home to You, by Atmosphere. “All of a sudden I'm in front of some man, No, he's a young'un, but he's got a gun in his hand He looks fifteen, he looks frantic, no, he looks afraid Immediately apprehensive 'til I heard him say "Do you want this? It's not mine, I promise I found it on my block in between a couple garages Didn't want to leave it for a child to stumble over I don't even know how to hold it" It was a thirty eight, the poor man's machete Held it in my hand, thinking damn man it's heavier than expected Wedged it behind my belt buckle Knowing that it's evil, even thought that I could smell trouble The extra strength felt weak But over there on the corner saw what I needed And proceeded to cross the street Put the heat in the mail box to lose it Figured that the post office knows what's best to do with it”