As a man it seems we have lost strength, everyone talks about growing up withought a father, but why bother! All we see is drugs and women and all the dirty pools we can swim in but in the beghinning , it was all about not sinning. No one cares any more, open up front doors, just so they can hear the noise of the streets that dont sleep, but every week, there is someone screaming they are too weak, to even get a peak of what its like to be a man,man,man. I wish i had a hand to play but i couldnt stand to stay, i had to leave behind the old ways for those hallways of education, rather than be swalloed by the builidings of fornication. This is where i am stationed, the island between jail or hell, a cell where there is no bail, no mail, just stale food and old dudes who are too rude to teach the new school about the old school. I come from the place where you walk across the street or fear getting beat by your own brother and his two hands and feet, i come from the place where the lights stay on becasue no onen know who is coming, there is something wrong , when i cant stand strong because everyone around me wont let me get home, but i refuse to, be afraid, be scared, man ill do it again and tell i have no fear. I speak because it is my mind, my time to shine, to let them see what is behind these divine lines, and this spine, that lets me stand upright. Live to fight another night, yea right, i stand strong now, because the place i came from, wher i hail from, doesnt have the sound of beating drums, or cars whistling by, or buildings in the sky. The place i come from is the bleeding slums, or where little girlsand boys die, and a wish to someone in the sky. Man, man, man.