***Phora***
Yeah, sometimes I think back, way back
To the times I never had shit
Joey had a 9 under his mattress and
He cocked it back and said "I'll take that risk, being broke dawg, I hate that shit
See, I've been plotting on this bank plus I got the plug to get me inside
But I can't do this shit alone, so is you ready to ride?"
Yeah, my pocket's hurting, hate to see momma working
Wasn't only ready to ride, I was ready to die
He said "tomorrow meet me here, 9AM and don't be late my nigga, 50/50 down the middle that's the rate my nigga,"
I shook his hand as I preceded to walk
My older homie pulled up and said we needed to talk
He said "A couple days ago, man I was bumping your tape
And I don't touch the radio because I just can't relate
You got that real shit, the type of songs people really feel shit." Told me he was proud and took a blunt to the face, and I said
"I feel like this rap shit ain't working, ain't no money coming in
Homie and mom still hurtin', the job ain't certain
Shit I might as well be in a coffin
I feel like my only option is to put that work in
That's on the real, I wanna roll up in a Benz like you
Wanna break bread with my friends and get the mans like you
Put my mothaf*ckin' city on the map, but first I need me a strap cause there ain't no telling what these kids might do."
That's when he told me:
"Listen little homie you the chosen one, don't ever try to be like these niggas cause they're the broken ones
Your music helps me to cope with the loss of my oldest son
And it's crazy cause you younger than me but I see your soul's become
Wiser than any man I've ever met before
When I listen to your music, P, I think of heaven more and that's hard cause we in hell and I'm at the devil's door
And just because we take a shot don't mean we always get the score
And I said "damn I never thought about it like that, but sometimes praying ain't enough, we gotta' fight back."
He told me "I'd do anything to have a normal life back, my homie doing life and I'm the only one that writes back,"
He said "Time is all we got, it ain't enough to go around
But if you wanna make this work you got to slow it down
But little did he know he saved my life that day
Cause Joey always lived by the gun but he died that way
***Phora***
This dude that listens to my music, his nephew is in the hospital
Fighting Leukemia and doing everything possible
Just to stay alive, I seen his picture, wanted to cry
And that shit got me choked up, and sometimes I feel so responsible
I'm worried about my album and what it sells in a week
While he's worried about the count of his blood cells every week
And he's fighting for his life, he can't help feeling weak
But that's ironic cause little homie is stronger than me
I feel so ashamed homie, like how can I be ungrateful?
How can I wake up every morning and not say "thank you,"
How can I question god in my music knowing damn well that everything I have he blessed me with, homie it's so disgraceful
3 years old, little homie is 3 years old, fighting in this world, so cold
See, I'll never know his pain or what it's like in his shoes
But little homie know we fighting for you
I wish, I wish there was something that I could do
If my wings weren't broken I'd take em', give him to you
Cause he an angel in my eyes but the devil is trynna' grasp him
I haven't prayed in months but I called for god and I asked him
"Why is the strongest ones that got it the hardest?
Why to be successful, god, you gotta' be heartless?
Why kids losing their life before they know what life is?
I just ask you to watch over these kids"
"Why is the strongest ones that got it the hardest?
Why to be successful, god, you gotta' be heartless?
Why kids losing their life before they know what life is?
I just ask you to watch over this kids"
Yours truly...
