| He was a child of the 80's
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| Used to bat his eyelashes smile at the ladies
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| Sit a _ round single file like a crazy
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| Boy with a small frame parents called him lazy
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| Used to entertain himself his drawings were amazing
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| Come up in the backyard trees for a gazing
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| At the skies over Echo Park a live education
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| Gunshots blazin he would hide in his _
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| Called imagination he would rise to occasion
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| When it involved his interest and pride with no patience
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| Kid couldn’t wait used to steal what he wanted
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| Learned Karma quick he could feel when he fronted
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| Didn’t feel good but he wanted to part of
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| Didn’t know behavior like this would be the start of
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| Low self-esteem and a dream deferred
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| Started makin stories didn’t mean the word
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| Writing became the art that he preferred
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| He liked to assemble manipulate verbs
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| He was shy and sprung
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| Got took advantage of and didn’t mind once
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| Just a little boy feelin hurt like a man
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| Played like a toy violin in her hand
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| Mom used to take him to buy them some gifts
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| Never once got him a kiss on the lips
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| Homie got smashed on the floor when they dissed
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| He liked girls young and he didn’t know why
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| Couldn’t know himself yet couldn’t even try…
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| Teenager of the 90's
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| Talent getting bigger but self-esteem tiny
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| Found himself a little, squad or brigade
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| Odd man out on the quad in the shade
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| Started growin dreads cause he wanted to be different
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| Didn’t give a shit about the classes he was missin
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| Sprung on a bad girl tension on a mission
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| Life in peril on the path of addiction
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| Started smokin cigarettes and weed out in _
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| Walkman bumpin didn’t think he needed to listen
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| To the teachers who gave him a ride home after school
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| Tried to talk to him he was actin like a fool
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| Wanted to be cool didn’t want to be a mule
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| All around wuss gettin told what to do
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| Stupid young dude with his nuts in a vice
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| Ended up having death threats on his life
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| Fuckin homies girlfriends never felt worse
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| So he dropped out of school started drinkin and at first
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| It was fun felt good he was brave writed fast
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| Rapped on a crew in a cabin in a path
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| Livin in a studio not makin any cash
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| Mom kicked him out straight dumped on his ass
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| Smoking weed all day 16 on a fast
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| Track to the grave couldn’t know himself yet
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| Now it’s 96
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| Started puttin acid on his tongue to take a trip
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| Made his first tape home made made a trip
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| Was the hustle he was taught by his homies on the strip
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| Telegraph laugh had a vibe you could feel
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| Long island iced teas to survive with the steel
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| In his hand on the stage he was scared to be real
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| _ with a page he would hide on the field
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| On the stage no yield
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| Started poppin ecstasy beginning of the pills
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| Killin of his energy it mentally appealed
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| They were all experimenting but he thought he was healed
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| Travelin the world in and out of any girl
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| Livin like a rockstar at home he would curl
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| In a ball on the floor could he fall any further
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| Hell yeah heroin called and he heard emmm
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| Now he didn’t give a fuck
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| Wasn’t makin music cause he didn’t give a fuck
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| Had to get a fix or his body would be stuck
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| More than down on his luck to the drug he was enslaved
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| Didn’t give a damn what his friends say
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| Wanted to be done so he bowed to the sensai
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| Surrendering rendering faith
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| Found himself a program to pay for the dates
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| Did his first show that was free of the drank
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| Felt so proud self-esteem in the tank
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| 3 years later putted music in the bank
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| Tryin to make due for the god that he thanks
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| Went through hell and he didn’t know why
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| Couldn’t know himself yet now he’s gonna try. |