Up against Goliath, to bring butter home.
I'm David on pavement, sling another stone.
I'm pain in the spoken form;
This new strain came from where hope is gone.
You named them: hustlers, killers, fiends, ex-cons.
I called them: cousins, aunts, pops, moms.
To you? Hoodlums, crackheads, gunmens.
To me? Just neighbors, classmates, young friends.
Once you find your lane, you can't cruise;
When you define the game, you can't lose.
Took a vow to protect and serve,
All you do is disrespect and murder.
I ask that you not hurt my kids;
This is where you work...this is where I live.
A simple right or left can mean life or death,
Epic fail or nice success,
Days of pleasure or nights of stress.
I play chess, but my past is checkered,
The mic and I are like staff and shepherd.
I'm a cold winter morning, y'all Summer's Eve.
You really only think with one part of your anatomy don't you?
In time, you'll see a thin line between friend and rival.
Between you and me: stupidity and men's bravado.
We ain't speak, clicking heat is our Morse code.
While the past is the past, it often affects our decisions later on in life.
I own the night...the heat's my receipt.
I had started to wonder if maybe my life wouldn't always hold so much pain if I could just find the courage to let it go.
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