[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
