Family that loved me, a father I never really knew
I won't lie to y'all cause the truth always shineth thru
Pops hit the road when I was still just a boy
Step dad came in quick, he raised me, bought me my first toy
Some like to front like they had it all rough
Bad luck, no folks, no food, never enough
I can't come at you like I was raised by the hood
If I don't rhyme truth it won't come out like it should
I went to college to educate myself on mankind
And find me a wifey to share life with and unwind
I live in New York, Albany, 3 hours north of the city
I don't much like it here, most people are shitty
Like cattle we're herded to work than back to our home
Never any time to wander or roam
I come from the old school, born in 1977
A child from some hippies who were higher than heaven
Never was sheltered, always shown the harsh truth
My pops was raised in Queens, 6 kids, apartment like a toll booth
Mom the daughter of a Grand Central cop
He was paid by the mob, turned his head to their drop
They both came up here to escape the harshness of the city
Thought to raise another youth in the crime would be a pity
I write rhymes as they flow off of my brain
I don't scribble and scratch and subject my head to any pain
You may not like my stlye or understand my strange flow
But these are some things that I want y'all to know
Its my first day on this site and I ain't going nowhere soon
I like to write rhymes and howl at the moon....

Payce
Newbian