To focus solely on handling my responsibilities as a father
So i tried to show her about the world and about just who we really are
I’m trifling, damn right ignorant
Maybe, my father would think different!
The hot-box vehicle like breathing out the window
Every wednesday when my father got home tho
Even when my dreams are dead
Cop me air ones, hon, lime and red
But look at my mother and father
And i just want to hold her
Baby mothers quittin school, nigga now it's up to her
She stares at his glare thinking about her dead beat father
Play you, for what? you gonna play yourself
My father say we can only help ourselves
Spread the word and witness, he rose on the first sunday
I'm going through so much, my own father is my enemy
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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