| Pay attention this is one time only
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| One of a kind homie
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| One rhyme at a time, until the front lines know me
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| This is one for the ages, I’m an open book
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| Thumb through the pages, take whatever you like
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| Before I ever wore Nikes
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| Stole my bike out the backyard
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| Snuck up in the drive in
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| We watched from on top of the car
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| Got that pawn shop guitar when I turned 11
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| And learned a reverend is only a man
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| I remember when we would bump those pioneers
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| Through the Pioneers
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| Six by nines
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| To fix our minds
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| Mix our times up to
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| Five and dimes
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| Workin, nine to fives
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| Just to, try and survive
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| So we would climb and strive
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| Knowin' it was a crap shoot
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| Just to get that loot
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| So I would sit and listen to my favorite rap group
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| When it was Triple Fat Goose and Patrick Ewings
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| That’s what cats was doin'
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| The crack was ruinin' cities
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| Mad people without work
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| Just stuck with habits and no way to dig out dirt
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| As luck would have it
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| We had dipped to the outskirt
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| I watched it from a distance, determined to make a difference
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| Someday |
| Someday man
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| People listen this is pieces of a man left
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| Stealin' back my childhood dreams so every time I breath it it’s Grand Theft
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| Young days were the best
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| Couldn’t ride my bike down to Lee’s cause the danger of G’s but I still crept
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| Hard headed, soft behind maker, own time taker
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| Clone of my big brother Rome
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| But a cry baby, had to have my own way
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| But it never came
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| Scared of the ball but not afraid of change
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| Went from substance to Bugle Boy to Cross Colored jeans
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| Had my own style but found it hard pullin' queens
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| Way I handle women now, that makes it hard to believe
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| But my insecurities just makes it hard to concede to failure
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| I probably need to tell 'em
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| That I care but I don’t trust 'em, I proceed to let 'em
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| Go
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| But every time I watch 'em leave they
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| Take a piece of me, that I say that I don’t need
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| And that’s the ebb and flow
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| And these just ain’t words to a song
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| I bring murder upon
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| Anybody who touches my older sister wrong
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| This growin' up shit is takin' long
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| There’s things I’ve never given up to God |
| I’ll probably have to someday
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| Yeah, someday dude
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| Let me talk
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| I was a black kid in the burbs
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| Private school educated
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| But when it came to me, them educators hesitated
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| Takin' their efforts in teachin' me would be negated
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| By my black skin
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| So they never took action
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| Never knew
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| Pops taught me to read when I was two
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| And by three
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| Adding and subtracting were my hobbies
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| They thought I couldn’t compete with little Sue and Bobby
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| Kinda little myself, still the man is tryin' to rob me
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| At sixteen, I was with the doc as he sifted
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| Through test results, realized, Si was gifted
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| He got kinda misty cause so many people missed it
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| But the damage was done
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| Black skin, black listed
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| So now
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| I get paid for pushing shit around
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| With hundreds of pounds gettin' lifted off the ground
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| And I won’t make a sound
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| Won’t frown
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| Won’t complain
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| I won’t play the victim in this game
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| We all strugglin', tryin' to break them chains
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| Some need to lay wang just to cope with the pain
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| And me?
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| I just concentrate, focus my aim
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| To make a difference so people will remember my name |
| Someday |