Never Walk Alone

Lyrics

[Hook] Thought I told you, I'll never let you walk alone. 2x [Verse 1] Scene one, The opening shot We pan across prostitution and crime This view through the eyes of a child that seen 365 eight times Pops is scared, the proverbial definition of this latchkey kid His moms works _______ things to the bone 48 hours ___ us some she never at home But she light that ass up, catch that ass lying Honey in the water, grilled cheese with the iron Screams with the sirens, the murder scenes It seems his life ____ to one block, snares and the gun shots Plays in the shadows, no need for sun block Take the E to Queens last stop, you can come watch He's intelligent, clever, however Foot at the bed, bows his head, close his eyes, hands together He prays, "Father, if you're truly the Father No need to bother, where's my father?" [Hook] Thought I told you, I'll never let you walk alone. 2x [Verse 2] They lost everything they owned and a home to a fire Moms got fired. Told em she retired Subtitles read like: "7 years later" Fast forward, past puberty, the smooth operator On the block, where the gators got more love than haters The youngest local pharmaceutical administrator In the distance walks a young hot potato [Oooh shit.!] Nah, nah, nah, for real, chill that's my moms! Slide the work to his mans, slipped a 50 in the palm Punched a nigga belly, stepped on his feet Slammed the child on the hard concrete Next thing, father moved from a prayer long forgotten Food in the dumpster where his cell smells rotten Get your hustle on, punch that clock in Where the prostitutes patrol and the streets be watching The father reveals himself to his son but is _____ [Hook] Thought I told you, I'll never let you walk alone. 2x [Verse 3] Masterfully written. Ordained by God as a classical piece Spit it passionately, mimics the clapping of heat Over immaculate beats to capture the beast Verses touch the youth like Catholic priests Strong survivor, we catch hairline fractures at least From a graphic depiction of rapping that's distractin' police Fuck em! Let's go hard! They track your whereabouts through E-ZPass MetroCards Young Black Americans left so scarred Just making it to 20 is a test so hard But Lord, somehow, some way, if I can I'll be the Soul Train in this American band stand Your Discovery Channel in this world of man-tanning punks Never fake the funk. Words travel in ----, bust side of your trunk Like Lee Malvo, Muhammed. Fucking spit and I'ma vomit!