Written In Stone

every since I was a little boy I always knew that I was meant for some purpose;always going my own way,always doing things different,seeing things differently than the rest of my peers,family,friends or what have you. Growing up,I relocated a lot,& I mean a lot of back and forth,different experiences,schools,friends,neighborhoods, you don’t know until you know;adjusting;that’s what it was all about,fitting in,from the streets of Charleston MS,those cold streets of Chicago and a few places in between,shots out to Michigan, Tennessee,Atlanta,New York...from those grimy project hallways to those dusty dirt roads,slanging from the matchbox to stickup licks to come up,those who’ve lived it get it,there’s a method to my madness,my pain really exists and not through something that I’ve seen on tv,but through the reality that lays deep inside of me,so yeah I can speak,is it fair as a child to be prayed upon,not understanding,innocence stripped away,there is no replay man,we can’t hide from who we are,where we’ve been or what we’ve been through,but if I never said a word would you know,matter of fact do you care; my world has forced me to feel like I really don’t give a shit either way,if I have something to say I’m going to get it off,we cry and turn to destructive ways to hide the hurt and sit comfortably behind justifications,but at the end of the day we can’t hide from ourselves. Shit hurts;my heart has been stitched up many times,and I value pain because it’s real. I’ve lost parts of me literally that I can never get back,missed opportunities,yes I’ve met and sat next to stars,big time influential people,but what does that mean?I have met some beautiful people,people who’ve taught me things,helped me along the way,and who will always be apart of me,if only you could have been there;through the hard times,the confusion,seeing things through my eyes,from the shows,the parties,the late night studio sessions,the gun play,the jail time,the shopping sprees,the time that I first held my daughter in my arms,the hood fights,the times when I needed you the most,it was never fun watching mom struggle once pops left,it was never fun falling into the same bs that seems to plague the young ethnic population,it wasn’t fun seeing those blood stains on the concrete, so excuse me if my mentality is that most people are constantly on bs,fk status quo,and you can fight with yourself,my character is consistently unorthodox and that tombstone shit,my life’s work is to at some point have life’s worth