There I was, ten years old Waiting in my room for him to come home I just knew he'd be so mad Though I begged my mother not to, she told my dad There
Young girl lost, when is you gonna learn to love yourself To trust him mean that you can't even trust yourself He was a dog when you met him now you mad
On how to keep the rats out the cereal box [SPM] I feel you homie nigga I lived that shit nigga I felt that shit We never felt so rich those were the good ass days
my dad had as a lad/ I get mad at myself sittin in the back of a cab feelin wack as a whip on the back of a slave on a ship back in the days at times
future lookin' like? Ain't dealt with death before, age 11 and can't take no more My hands on the floor cause my stomachs feelin' sick and I was mad
it is, black and white There it is, black and white I wanna tell you something that gets me kind of mad It's about my dear old dad He's tired, and worn
This is a still like pipe smoking momma And she's mad Words were meant to be lies Didn't score no tries Out of your mouth the golden palace The teeth of a million days
boheme La vie boheme To days of inspiration, playing hooky, making something out of nothing The need to express, to communicate To going against the grain, going insane, going mad
grateful 'Cause I've had my troubles and my trials I've hit the mark and I've missed by miles Had days that I've been fightin' mad But the good times
Queens things and shit You know Harlem Weeks and shit like that Niggaz I miss that can't be here with us thuggin it out Thinkin about them good ol days
phase, you expected straight A's I had F's, absences and thirty late days I understood you thought about puttin' your son in the car Dad, you know I'
' house? Where the fuck was you, why you think the kids act like that When you come around, they don't fuckin' know you, why? 'Cause you was a deadbeat dad
down. has anybody seen by faith around I'm sorta desperate to be down. It's dark days on planet earth, runnin after answers, missing the truth everyone so mad
't know, ooh Ask your mom, but right now she's mad The night before she fought your dad She'd help you out if she had the time But your dad is sad and
like a chemical combustion, Real name, Dustin, I spit these customs, A.K.A. D-Loc, E-Loc's little cousin, Don't be mad, be glad, tell your dad, 'cause
s dad Doing laundry to clean up on reality's fad [dove] Now we in a sticky situation but we make it fon-kay And bring it back to the days of watching
girls just come follow me I'm the fried pipe piper down with dub and plug three I like my mans, freestyle is not my flow But I gets mad respect from
nut on yo cheek You say I treat you so bad But bitch you make me so mad Instead of suckin on my dick you'd rather fuck your dad Everybody in the hood