We Ain't Meant To Survive,

If You Walked By A Street And You Was Walking A Concrete And You Saw A Rose Growing From Concrete, Even If It Had Messed Up Petals And It Was A Little To The Side You Would Marvel At Just Seeing A Rose Grow Through Concrete. So Way Is It That When You See Some Ghetto Kid Grow Out Of The Dirtiest Circumstance And He Can Talk And He Can Sit Across The Room And Make You Cry, Make You Laugh, All You Can Talk About Is My Dirty Rose, My Dirty Stems And How Am Leaning Crooked To The Side, U Can't Even See That I've Come Up From Out Of That.

There’s No Way That Michael Jackson Or Whoever Jackson Should Have A Million Thousand Droople Billion Dollars And Then There’s People Starving. There’s No Way! There’s No Way That These People Should Own Planes And There People Don’t Have Houses. Apartments. Shacks. Drawers. Pants! I Know You’re Rich. I Know You Got 40 Billion Dollars, But Can You Just Keep It To One House? You Only Need One House. And If You Only Got Two Kids, Can You Just Keep It To Two Rooms? I Mean Why Have 52 Rooms And You Know There’s Somebody With No Room?! It Just Don’t Make Sense To Me. It Don’t.

My Family Tree Consists Of Drug Dealers, Thugs, And Killers.

The Lesser The Friends, The Lesser The Chances Of Betrayal.

I Smoke Blunt To Take The Pain Out And If I Wasn't High I'd Probably Blow My Brains Out.