Although suckas try to railroad ya or Mack tractor truck-ya---
Those cats are just losers. Opposite of winners--- Memph-City abusers.
I wrote this for you, with no beat. Only God inside the home of my mind as well as outside of my window.
Love being pumped to my heart, meeting my mental.
I see what they tried to get you into!
It started waaay back with Mr. Jackson.
Running the natives off and then thought they'd be relaxing.
But you so resilient and you have seen everything they've done.
Now I see why you got favor on me (us) baby, we (I) won,
We (I) were slum! Ducking in the streets when them shots popped off.
A 1/4 mile nomadic bullet took that homies top right off.
You scared me time and time again, but spared me time and time again.
I take it you were just showing and inspiring me how to be a man.
Martin died there, so you showed me how to lend a hand.
And lend a voice, to those who don't know how to expose feelings.
Deal with mis-dealings, mistreatments and what not!
I left you to move to NYC on some, "WHAT NOW?"
But I, maintained focus, it ain't take to long.
Right or wrong? Or whether I write it short or long? You know what I"m on---
You want me to own, moving along, loving me, my own.
And then it won't be long before I'm back.
Teaching through showing these cats how to act.
How to set it up, throw the right curve ball.
How to rightly field a grounder, how to make self so astounding.
Spent days through Central Park tossing lucky coins off into fountains,
Wishing only the best for us, un-unjust....it's just-us, baby.
Some of these folk crazy to fathom us separated,
To fathom us, "city of the dead" and label us "se-dated".
This be for my folk in the streets and those in that corner office.
For my folk in Forest Hill Cemetery, resting peacefully in the coffin
This is for those crying and coughing. I know you tired of being oppressed often.
I know it seems awful, but baby girl but we good now.
I just need you to stick wit me like Clyde and Bonnie.
I'm back in the hood now, doin' this just like I should, now.
They gonna say a lot and throw a lotta hate,
But we gonna play the game raw and wait for it to cross the plate.
Then abuse it like a corked bat.
then hit the lounge and tell the waitress to uncork that.
This is celebration from the pain and sorrow---
I love you today, with a state to appreciate a beautiful tomorrow!
