Some nights I
get on my knees and
pray to my savior.
Hoping one day this
grind will bring a
reward.
So i can buy my
mama the finer things
we could't afford,Back
in the hood when all our
tears were being ignored.
I get a pen and some
paper and start venting my
anger,my pain, my shame, my
joy,my humor, my thoughts.
No longer a child
I'm the man of the
building. And I ain't
stopping till I'm in that
spotlight.
So I continue to create
music from my soul.
I won't stop till I
reach my goal. But everybody
tell me my dream is impossible.
But I tell'em okay and just run
through the stereotypes and
boxes they put me in.