Sometimes I think back to the times I never had sh** Joey had a 9 under his mattress and He co*ked it back and said "I'll take that risk Being broke dawg I hate that sh** See, I've been plotting on this bank plus I got the plug to get me inside But I can't do this sh** alone so is you ready to ride?" Yeah, my pocket's hurting, hate to see moma working Wasn't only ready to ride, I was ready to die He said "tomorrow meet me here, 9AM and don't be late my n***a, 50/50 down the middle that's the rate my n***a" I shook his hand as I petered to walk, my homie pulled up and said we needed to talk He said "a couple days ago, man I was bumping your tape And I don't touch the radio just cause I can't relate You got that real sh**, the type of songs people really feel sh**" told me he was proud and took a blunt to the face and I said "I feel like this rap sh** ain't working, no money coming in homie and mom still hurtin', the job ain't certain, sh** I might as well be in a coffin, I feel like my only option is to put that work in, that's on the real, I wanna roll up in a Benz like you Wanna break bread with my friends and get the mans like you Put my mothaf**in' city on the map, but first I need me a strap cause there ain't no telling what these kids might do That's when he told me, "listen little homie you the chosen one, don't ever try to be like these n***as cause they're the broken ones, your music heals me to cope with the loss of my oldest son and it's crazy cause you're younger than me but I see your soul's become. Why is it that any man that I've ever met before, when I listen to your music, P, I think of heaven more and that's call we're all in hell and I met the devil's doll And just cause we take a shot don't mean we get to score" And I said "damn I never thought of it like that, but sometimes praying ain't enough, we gotta' fight back" He told me "I'd do anything to have a normal life back, my homie doing life and I'm the only one that writes back" He said "time is all we got, it ain't enough to go around but if you wanna make this work you got to slow it down but little did he know he saved my life that day cause Joey always lived by the gun but he died that way This dude who listens to my music, his nephew's in the hospital Fighting a kidney and doing everything possible Just to stay alive, I seen his picture, wanted to cry And that sh** got me chocked up, and sometimes I feel so responsible I'm worried about my album and what it sells in a week While he's worried about the count of his blood cells every week And he's fighting for his life, he can't be feeling weak But that's ironic cause little homie's stronger than me I feel so ashamed homie, like how can I be ungrateful? How can I wake up every morning and not say thank you How can I question god in my music knowing damn well that everything I have he blessed me with is so disgraceful 3 years old, little homie is 3 years old, fighting in this world so cold See, I'll never know his pain or what it's like in his shoes Little homie know we fighting for you I wish, I wish there was something that I could do If my wings weren't broken I'd take him, give him to you Cause he an angel in my eyes but the devil is trynna' grasp him I haven't prayed in months but I called for god and I asked him "why does the strongest ones got it the hardest? why do the successful guys gotta' be heartless? why kids losing their life before they know what life is? I just ask you to watch over this kids Yourstruly