Intro :
Man I'm tired of these empty pockets
Man I'm tired of these empty pockets
Lord knows
This was written to a friend I am my (brothers keepers )
Verse 1
Why the f** is you still with that n***a
He ain't doing you justice
I know he struggling but momma say that ain't up for discussion now shut yo mouth and be quite Iont need you out here hustling selling sh** for me Todd matter a fact go get a job or something empty pockets man I'm tired of these empty pockets but momma don't want me dead or she don't want me locked in so she using the man she with cause she on't got no option Picking and picking momma digging all this out his pockets so I pray for some betters days close my eyes and see heavy rain tired of
Momma lying telling me that, that man gone change I don't believe it if he try you Mama his family grieving
sh** momma I've even been in my room bob-in and weaving fightin there
Ma I'm scared
I wish that my pops was there
Got wounds up on my back from when my poppa used to beat me there
But he anit mean it
Why you leave him momma he didn't mean it
Please bring poppa back
What the f** am I'm not speaking English
Why is this my life ?
Oh why is this my
Life
Why is this my life ?
Oh why is this my
Life
Verse 2
Dad I miss you man how come you on't never reach out to me poppa not here and mommy said that you was everything not to be
I'm only 12
Have yet to learn
Being lied to and honesty
How come unlike my moms costumers
Thankful for cosmetology
I wet the bed
But this wasn't wet the bed
I've done before
Puberty's kicking in and I'm starting to become Something more
But tell me why you know longer showing up
What did I do wrong ?
I feel alone
Pick up the phone
Hey dad when you coming home
How come when you left before you had lugages packed with all yous clothes
How come momma said that you only needed some time alone
And when I ask with how much she reply with Ion know
Answer me
Papa answer me
How come when I sleep I have fantasies bout women getting high off (?) and Iont give a damn bout weed I'm 17
Life's getting brighter as I'm getting older
Have broader shoulders
My pistol is co*ked without a holder and locked and loaded
Life's (?)
And I've been playing games
Busting my a** knowing damn well that I deserve the fame
Who's to blame
I'm just thankful that you on't f** with me
Cause everything I've been through is who I've come to be
Like why is this my life
(Oh) why is this my
Oh why is this my life
Yeah why is this my
Life
Thank you thank you
See at times I feel alone
Broken hearted
My broken home anit broken heart has only made me that much more intelligence knowledge is power
And when it comes to that sort
It seems that society inadequate
Those who seem to forever be devastated
Are uneducated
And the difference between taking a break and
Forever being segregated
See segregation, neglection, Unexceptance
Not f**ing with you or simply not being messed with
All fall in the same category and
Well I just need affection