He isn't in those bushes
He holds up his mama like crutches and wishes she doesn't have to wash dishes to pay tuition so he inches

Closer and closer to his goal, the man of the household, the one who could make me weak even blindfolded, his words bold, but here beholds the crutches so strong, my awe is uncontrolled.
 

After being dragged in those bushes, he stretches to not fall in ditches. He watches
Those who don't see the greatness in themselves, he pushes them
but the flashes of money and women distract them. The light of their ashes dim making them swim back with shriveled skin, demanding attention because there was never a distinction between television and an education...
but not him.

He has a vision, constructs his path with precision and a sexy smile I forgot to mention.

He's the crutch that stands out from the flashes and let's nothing distract him because his mama stretched from limb to limb for him not to be them.
He ain’t trynna be them patnas stuck in trauma, or in the slama so he does it for his mama.

She's the one who shows up: tells him to grow up, clean up, she's been there from the ground up so he becomes better than a runner up without luck.

He's just that crutch no one else can touch. That's probably why I love him so much...