Picture a little boy, brown hair, only the age of four-
never did anything wrong, but his mother doesnt want him anymore\
She's always gettin high, with no reguard for her son-
even when he's the perfect little boy, by his mom he gets shunned\
He tries to be a good kid, he doesnt know what hes doing wrong-
tries to find a toy to play with, while his mom hits the bong\
The young boy woke up one morning to find his mother on the floor dead-
the little boy knew his mother was gone, but not one tear was shed\
From that day on the boy was homeless, he had nowhere to live anymore-
he was in different foster homes, but no one wanted the son of a crack whore\
The boy felt like he waws alone, wandering the streets every night-
trying just to survive in the world, trying to win the fight\
Some told the boy that he would never have a tomorrow-
all the boy ever wanted was a happy life, instead its filled with sorrow\
One day the boy found that he was good at writing rhymes-
he had a dream of making good money, instead of commiting crimes\
One day he wrote a rap, it was the most heat filled thing ever writtin-
but he left his paper in the park, and one day he saw his rap bein spittin\
But he isnt mad, it makes him feel really good-
because he just proved to the world, that he did something they said he never could\