From the highest skyscraper, down to everything I’ve seen.
Familiar faces on the street that always looked mean.
I come home to see the house smelling like Mr. Clean
Whether it’s Wicker Park or Logan Square.
I’ll always remember where I sprouted my first hair.
The city’s tough but should be handled with care.
When life is rough and it starts to tear,
your body apart and when the pain starts.
I’m not going to lie, I love this city with all my heart.
From those buildings I’ve seen a thousand times,
To get up there that’s thousands of feet to climb.
Soaring above the city like a bird in the sky.
Even our fast food rocks like Wendy’s or Five guys.
It’s a piece of cake, no it’s a piece of pie.
The pizza kind, like we eat in the Chi.
From Millennium Park all the way to the Bean.
The police are doing everything to keep these streets clean.
My mom out there at the restaurant working double shifts.
Trying to give me anything I want by getting extra tips.
Normally I’m on the corner of Harlem and Grand.
My mom said when she was younger that was a hotdog stand.
Now it’s 10 and getting late.
My mom getting home on the interstate.
Driving down the road faster than a coy0te in a heated chase.
Heated like the hot hands in the handwarmers in the winter filled with hate.
The drive is almost over like she’s reaching the home plate.
High school is on it’s way coming so fast.
Doing everything I can just to get past.
Still in middle school although this year’s my last.
Still quicker than an NFL kick returner on a touchback.