I want all that shit I want opulence never forget how hard it is to stay positive when you're dying inside pushing for the better day but it's always raining outside and have to decide that it's best to keep the fire inside burning forever yearning to be upper bracket market valued when parlayed outside/Niggas ain't true as me I spiral a fiery barrel of grace aimed at the cerebral cortex of the culture vulture mind set/All praises due to Gloria grand pops said you raised that boy too wild but we all know you raised a warrior/who understands first hand how goodness and mercy follow us/bitterness and envy will swallow you whole like leviathan if we can't question God then why She listening/knew all about dope fiends and ain't read Donald Goines cuz my pops pushed the retired fiends cure for dollars and coins/hood general with the plan for a change of our general surroundings until that day I'm at you every day all day with this rap Soufflé/devils sitting front row to fade and erase you jam you up and taint you then back up off you/lived hard, so I write hard to expose my flesh scars/even remember the first time I played corners in the elevator...
My parents ran a residential rehabilitation center. The basement of the first house on Thirty-five Chestnut Street was home for me as a newborn. When I was a kid my life seemed to have no adventure and felt completely void of characters. It wasn't as vivid as tales spun by addicts in search of recovery and a personal Jesus. Back then I didn't see contradictions and complications as a process of human maturity. Time taught me that Life is tragic, hope filled, explicit, and blessed ...