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bother
That's when I started hatin' the phony smiles
Said I was an only child
Look at mama's lonely smile
It's hard for a son to see his mother cry
only half the scenario
You nag a cat, you giving him a license to fuck a hoe
When a man come home late, he want his girl to say hello
Not hear all
actin' hard
He a ho, pull his card, chase him to the boulevard
Windows tinted on my car, roll 'em down and flip his car
Bitch, I'm Blood, flip his bar,
friend, my hero, was killed by a drunk driver in
a head-on collision. He died instantly.
I couldn't even bring myself to go to his funeral.
My agony was so
an artist the way she drew comparisons 
His success my failures I had no reason
Brother got straight A's I had problem reading
aunties talked about their
a story
Arguing with her husband about
The same things her son leaves home
She often thinks of when her son was younger
A friend who cannot be helped
Her
down on the couch
By a bowl of flaccid flowers
And I talked and talked and talked and talked
For hours and hours and hours
And he told me tales
the Dude, Kurupt, 2
And James Brown with his fist crossed
I fluctuate the vocals like Prince Rogers
Whoever thought a billionaire come
Out of Compton?
was lonely and depressed
Having fled the family home
When I met an old acquaintance
I had only barely known

And I told her over tea
Of my worries
anymore
This sounds like Tears for Fears"

I thought about textin' a friend
About how depressed I was by this band
By I didn't feel like
knew it'd be warm.

At the wheel sit a big man, he weighed about two-ten 
He stuck out his hand and said with a grin 
"Big Joe's the name", I told
the coal
And they barbecued birds to the bone
They burned incense in a Buckminster Fuller type dome
I talked to Mr. Fuller over the phone
And he said he had
and ask JV, man put it in twice
I left him soaked and it weren't by rain
I done bucked up Ben in Bexleyheath
He shouldn't have had no blade
When I spit, man
them
Say a prayer for them
Let 'em know that God's there for them
This is how the world will
Know that you're His
And by the way that you will love
grandfather was lying wounded in the leg. He’d been wounded by one of our own lads who’d mistaken him for a German when Grandfather had come hobbling out
He was a starboy from birth
Heir of Havannah born in American earth
Never seemed to fit in & man it started to hurt
Cuz nothing could ever work
His
either so I called my father when I realized I didn't feel like talking to dad but by then he picked up and I had to. We talked about the weather and then
hating but she know that he a hoe
Her nigga in his feelings say she gonna get exposed
That nigga broke mad 'cause you tryna make some pros
You thick
me that I can’t remember the conversation but that irritating itch in my brain
Made me think of a man who taught me about Mexican Muralism
His name is
things are downtown, 
You might have to stay for awhile. 
There was a helicopter hovering over your house 
When I talked to your neighbor, Kyle."
I,
I'm afraid that...
so strange because I only speak Korean to my parents.
My dad was 
one of his jobs he was 
he was 
you know, was
And then she's
something
Everything I have I worked for
Yet he demands some more
When If it wasn't for me
he would be laying dead on the floor
Tired of disrespect, of his
He's the reason I'm here
All they rhyme about is guns, money, sex and drugs
Eighty percent of these dudes is fictional thugs
We don't kill nobody, we
on his side
Set me up for the rob
Came home from my job
My crib cleaned out
PlayStation, and my stash, and the straps too
So now I'm broke with no tools

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