[Verse: Jus Allah]

I am from a broken home

No doctors, no folks at home

No father home, papa was a rolling stone

Sitting in the dark, burnt out, copper tone

At eight, that's great weight on your collarbone

I was so livid, can't put a pig in lipstick

[?] vivid, it was no picnic

Being black, lack of options

Bad synopsis

If I had a matchbox that'll match boxes

This is middle ground, meet the [?] you down

You get the kills for the best deals in town

No lobster or salmon

This is not the Hamptons

It's a lot of famine

[?]

Short lived poor kids with gun powder

In under an hour

We call 'em 1-800-flowers

Drugs and guns, struggling loved ones

Ain't nobody got the deluxe sums and trust funds