| I was up and out my mothers house at 17
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| Been a grown ass married man ever since
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| Family reunions, I’m talked about but never seen
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| Cause I learned that some of them can be your nemesis
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| Got a lot of scars on me, I’ll now tell you the stories
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| If, you promise not to take offense
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| Homie, sit back then, hand bring the beat in
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| I’ll try to find a place that starts to make sense now
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| The first time I was pushed out blind
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| Cold and naked, spanked on the ass to breathe
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| An immigrant from heaven on earth with a word piece
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| I announce my self with gasps and screams
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| Before black and white supremacy, heighted my innocence
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| I was living out life behind the picket fence
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| Happy go lucky scared of no one
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| With the only exception, I’m allergic to the sun
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| Didn’t know I had a image that a camera couldn’t capture
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| 100% on Mars manufacture
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| But then came the laughter, and outside I’m battered
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| Picket fence shattered
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| I saw my self as bastard tagalong, harassed and spat upon
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| By the children of slave masters who passed it on The saddest songs been sung at the hands of who I call the race from hell
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| Its a disgrace from hell
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| Fell face first in the self hate
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| Burst into tears when I hear my own hellish name cursed
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| If I seem timid, its only because every mirror that I saw back then had the
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| earths ugliest human being in it And with that said, they would kick me till they got tired or I act dead
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| And I, have to tell ya’ll that the obvious part
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| That I always feel free when I’m talking to god
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| Alone on the playground, Friday afternoon
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| And the, old sister who hums gospel toons
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| I saw her notice getting closer
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| She approached me and put a knowing hand on my shoulder
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| And booked my feelings
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| Cause she looked at me in a way that adults very seldom look at children
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| And with the wisdom only earned by years
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| She read my thoughts and she welled up with tears and said
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| You look the way you do because you’re special
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| Not the short bus way, I mean that God’s gonna test you
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| And all of this pain is training for the day when you
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| will have to lead with the gift God gave to you
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| Grown folks don’t see it but the babies do And there’s a chance that you can save a few
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| And time will prove that, she started my movement
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| She didn’t tell me to take it — she told me to use it The second time poppa ripped the womb open early
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| And exposed me to the coldness life prematurely
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| Where mom’s love used to live, now housed denial
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| And when that decayed, it made it bitter and spiteful
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| But me and my runaway, we share something special
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| Rode into the sunset, can barely can tough the pedals
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| No strings attached, screaming, fuck Geppetto
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| We may live in the gutter, but we cling to each other
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| A week before my son came, I caught a bad bounce
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| And had to step to mom with my hands out
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| And momma proved the two of us could not live in that house
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| She lied to the police so they would throw us in the streets
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| And separating from you, is something that I feel I must do Its not that I don’t love you, its more that I don’t trust you
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| Its been a year since I’ve seen a living relative
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| And it’s just now that I’m starting to live
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| But while I’m sitting here, choking on tears wishing that I didn’t care
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| Feeling all alone in this hemisphere, I swear upon everything I hold dear
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| And then my wife comes near, and I hear a voice whisper in my ear
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| You’re going through all of this because you’re special
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| Not no superstar shit, I mean that God had to test you
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| And all of this pain has been training for the day when you
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| would lead us with the gift God gave to you
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| Your parents might not see it but your babies do And there’s a chance that you can save a few
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| And time will prove that, she started my movement
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| She didn’t tell me to take it, she told me to use it So I use it |