| Everyday I pray to make it out the slums Lord
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| But I know peace don’t come easy, so I work hard for it
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| Got my ears to these streets, eyes to the sky
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| Hands on supply, ready to buss on any busta lookin' for a come up
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| I speak for the overcomers, for those accustomed to the dungeons
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| Where they ain’t no stories of rags to riches, just rags to more raggedy
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| Avenues filled with addicts addicted to not having shit
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| Where the helpless get high to cope with their existence
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| The homeless buy hope and kids sit on corners, pitchin' ideas to pass us by
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| wishin' life supplied them with an intermission
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| Prayin' for a break, a breakthrough, in a second just to take 'em to the
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| intuition
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| Tryna sow the sea, our sons and daughters need to see more love more hugs and
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| more kisses
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| My heart’s cold, so I suppose I scold my own reflection in the mirror
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| But, one step at a time, may the divine blessed the divine and heal those who
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| hide behind the faces who are sighed
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| This hindsight got my mind right, so I pray my little light encourages yours
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| enough to shine |