[pharoahe monch] My mom is in the bedroom, cryin again Sisters on the street corner, lyin again Just heard about another one of my niggaz dyin again Im tryin again to make moves.. Ill be damned if we go hungry Ever since my pops passed the responsibilities belonged to me This song you see is like an ode to god That he blessed my last breath to be allah u akbar And this city is hard, tenement buildings are barred Incarcerated and scarred, no sentiment for when it becomes Time for war Im tryin to score like bernard king My vocal box sling verbal cocaine like the government I told you Id hurt the music