Dark streets city nights
World piece city life
Poverty and pain dang tell me is this really life
Those African streets they bad boy
No we don’t know Diddy
All this black on black violence is notorious
I guess it aint no Biggy
I wish that I could be the Biggy of my city
Wondering why these teens are on the news
That’s because their building too much prisons
They aint building schools
Dear Mr. President
You’re black just like me
We’re all confused by crazy dreams
BB king
No hockey team
These are my blues
I’m making moves
Making movements had scrapes and bruises
Made adjustments made improvements if I keep going on like this I’ll have my momma taking cruises
I’ve seen people turn something into nothing and I had to live through it
I’m going to do the opposite and turn nothing into something
Watch me become ruthless
Post traumatic slave syndrome
I’ve been trying to find a cure but the media say’s it been gone
Ingrown imbedded and breaded beneath the skin tone
My pen roams
Money is going to be spreading like fire underneath brimstone
Student of pain
Won’t change for a dollar
I’ve been penny pinching out this piggy bank praying to god to help me turn this change into a dollar
In hopes that I can find my way to heaven
I already paid my ties I touched that offering plate on credit