| Protecting Ryan
|
| Protecting Ryan
|
| Back when I was a teenager
|
| Me, my brother Vish, and My brother Greg was playing basketball at the court
|
| There was these two niggas in general that just kept fouling, just fouling,
|
| fouling
|
| So I went up for a lay-up, I’m like «ball nigga!»
|
| God damn, they talkin' shit, I’m talkin' shit
|
| He jumps up in my face
|
| So I throw an overhand right and a hook
|
| Bitch! |
| 'wham! |
| wham!'
|
| This nigga falls to the ground asleep
|
| All you see is Z’s, birdies, stars, you hear all that shit
|
| And then I run up on the nigga that he was with that was also talkin' shit
|
| I said «what's up»
|
| Soon as I said that, this nigga Vish just threw the basketball and hit him in
|
| the face hard as fuck, 'boom!'
|
| Now if he was about to say something tough, he must have just changed his mind
|
| 'cause that nigga turned around and broke running
|
| All I heard that nigga saying was, «I don’t want a problem»
|
| And right when I was thinking to myself, 'where the fuck is Greg at?'
|
| I’m reminded of why I never call him when there’s a problem
|
| He got this thing about protectin' Ryan, he just kinda overdo shit
|
| So the next thing that happened in my mind, went like this:
|
| Greg flew into the picture, possibly from out of the sky, I think he was
|
| wearing a cape
|
| He landed infront of me like 'duhn duhn dah duhn'
|
| With a knife in his hand, with the handle taped up that he had been keeping
|
| under his front driver’s seat in his car the whole time and nobody knew
|
| This nigga just blacked out and started swinging the knife at the dude I dropped
|
| 'swoosh swoosh swoosh' «I'mma kill you mother fucker!»
|
| And start cuttin' the nigga
|
| I had to grab him like, «Greggy, what are you doing? |
| Don’t kill this nigga!»
|
| The whole park just went silent
|
| And then the silence gets broken by police sirens
|
| And all you hear from each way is people going, «Greg throw the knife on the
|
| roof! |
| Greg throw the knife in the pool! |
| Get rid of the knife, Greg!»
|
| And he drops the bloody knife right in the grass
|
| I look at him, he looks back at me
|
| Prison bars just come in between us and surrounds him completely
|
| My mother and father just outta nowhere pops into the picture
|
| And I said, «You ain’t have to try to kill him Greggy»
|
| My mother and father, «Why you have to try and kill him Greggy?»
|
| He said, «I was protecting Ryan!»
|
| And then he went to prison and started writing letters home
|
| «Dear Momma
|
| I’m so sorry
|
| All I was doing was protectin' Ryan»
|
| And then he came home
|
| «Ryan got a record deal, did you hear, Greg?»
|
| «Yeah, I deal with a record everyday that I got for calling myself protecting
|
| Ryan.»
|
| «But you ain’t have to call his wife a bitch right to her face»
|
| «See here we go again, don’t nobody never see my side of the story.
|
| Everytime I turn around, y’all either defending or protecting Ryan»
|
| I think I get it now
|
| Thank you for protectin' me
|
| I wouldn’t be where I’m at today if you hadn’t protected me
|
| Thank you
|
| Thank you for teaching me how to rap
|
| Thank you for teaching me how to scrap
|
| Thank you for sacrificing your life so I can have a better life
|
| Greg, is that what you want to hear? |