| His father died young, never knew him to shield him from the rain
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| Starting shooting heroin at fourteen to numb the pain
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| Track marks similar to tattoos, tell the story of a sad fool
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| Tragic monologue of a man who
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| Became a victim of half-truths and whispered secrets
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| His own inner-demons, syringes and lesions
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| Crack pipes and binges on weekends
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| Led to benders and blackouts that last for seasons
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| For no apparent reasons he never had children
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| He was a child in a man’s body
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| Found joy in the thrill of the streets and crack parties
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| Robbing drug dealers, selling dope, selling soap
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| Locked in the belly of the beast where the felons roam
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| Gift of gab, quick-witted with the clever soul
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| Couldn’t keep him from catching a buck-fifty in his dome
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| Matter of fact, more like two-fifty, too shifty
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| His name was Howie but on Rikers Island he was gypsy
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| Time and time again as I pick up the pen
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| As my thoughts emerge, these are those words
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| I glance at the paper to know what’s going on
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| Someone’s doing wrong, the story goes on
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| A lot of stuff happens that the news won’t tell yous
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| Loose all L-juice, snooze all hell loose
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| State of the slums, kill four, play the drums
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| Fake ones, they’re coarse with smiles and snake tongues
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| Fuck a clan or a cult man, I stand by my own
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| All by myself grown up but fuck you I’m abandoned, disowned
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| I’m alive and thriving, driving like a bandit with gold
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| You ain’t got no balls so you don’t understand it at all
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| I’m America’s nightmare, I’m a werewolf with soul
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| I’m unbearable with no fam I’m just terrible yo
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| I have hate in my heart so when I tear a new hole
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| In all your dreams and ideals, momma where would you go?
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| Watched my father betray me baby watched Erica go
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| That’s interference, I just wanted Terrance to grow
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| Steering clear of all these voices I can hear in my skull
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| Here in my head, surrounded by these spirits is dead
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| Who are you to trust and who I am to judge it?
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| This is do-or-die, suicide on a budget
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| You can hate or love it but I put it on my motherfucking mother
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| That I came out and I ain’t going back to the gutter |