I'm trying to teach you a lesson here son school of hard knocks aint even got this one its a lesson thats spoken not written pay attention to what im spitting stay in school reading, studying and praying not in the street playing with the sprayer i was in the same position at one time or another running away from home to hang with the homies forgotten my mother was crying herself to sleep cause she had the foresight to see the only thing waiting for me was a red rag laying in the street with a chalk line drawn around me deceased gotta pick your battles and figure out what kinda man you wanna be. you gonna be a wannabe in the street get mourned by your family you can pick out your friends but cant pick your family regardless of how you feel they're the ones who there unconditionally and yet your friends they dismissing me oh he spending it with family aint got no more love for the street when you dont show up for supper now your family suffers and struggles with you laying six deep in the ground cause you follow the gang around all over town picking a beef instead of coming home to eat. but they're my priority the foundation for me to build a life i can sorta see why they getting upset with me being in the street so i stay home and be working on me im gonna step up and be a productive member of society getting down in my house bringing us closer to getting out of poverty aint in the street struggling to surviving the beef. aint stuck in a graveyard with a headstone saying rest in peace i growed up quit showing up to the assholes who throwing up they signs.. its a sign of the times im finishing rhyming while you out in the street dying for something that dont care or matter where would you rather be laughing with your family or listening to they're eulogies from six deep. only got one chance wound up being deleted now the only way your talking is in the breeze the rustling of tree leaves cause you succumbed to these streets...