Bastard Son

Bastard son, raised by the streets

with Thugs, Drugs and Guns

Writing Poetry to paint a picture of my life

So i can show you what i've been thru

Violence, Corruption, Death

I've seen it all with my two eyes

Some how, Some way I managed to stay Alive

Is hard for me to tell you what's wrong or right

Because i was raised wrong

I didn't had parents at home

Had to figure it out how to be a man on my Own