Genius Freestyle 027

Lyrics

What a vicious cycle I picture Michael poppin' sleepin' aids Thinkin', will I see success before I see my grave? In my 20's, but bear crosses like I'm Jesus' age In the hood like radiators, still I seem to get amazed By crack spots, bumpin' Bumpy-face pre-teens Kids with street dreams and empty key-rings Benz dreamin', but they're bus-catchin' Poppin' E big as Excedrins Section 8 apartments feel like Department of Corrections It's heartless in my section Where they'll take your life before they take the SATs Where bein' fatherless seem destined, parents hardly in sync Daddy split quicker than Justin Made it kinda hard to get adjusted, but fuck it Hard to get your respect if your shots ain't nothin' but net And your pops ain't like Uncle Phil And your grandma strugglin' with stress And your house full as Uncle Jesse And society suggests That fully loaded TECs could get your people outta debt Slow down, baby, I've been there I've been counted out before Lil Romeo had chin hair Been a woman of my house, my daddy disappeared in thin air Mama on the couch, throwin' up, had me quickly pourin' up Growin' up, see… I lost my innocence seein' crack on my premises Livin' like primitives, been this way since my genesis Mama pawnin' my Genesis, sellin' government benefits In a country where opportunities limited School, hard to be interested in algebra and formulatin' sentences When kids disappearin' by the increments So instead of sittin' in class with a Texas Instrument Young niggas pitchin' them bags whiter than Eminem Who gonna mentor when daddy hardly remember them? Movin' weight, up late like Jimmy Fallon and Kimmel, them Pushin' keys like Timbaland, debt seemin' so imminent Tryna get a million and end up on a Gildan Name spraypainted on a buildin' Children, left without a father I know the feelin' Nobody that'll tell you that you're brilliant Or take you to recital, so you study BET And then TV to find an idol, what a vicious cycle Tryna make it like Mike WiLL, no life skills Sellin' crack to pay them light bills Police hate your guts, give a fuck how they might feel 'Cause they can't relate, they straight with some nice wheels I was raised by reality shows instead of guardians Life cold-hearted, pray to God, be a cardigan Racial targetin', and urban marketors pray Young niggas off in the cage just to get a fork and a plate 'Round my way