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Some nights I get on my knees and pray to my savior. Hoping one day this grind will bring a reward. So i can buy my mama the finer things we could't afford,Back in the hood when all our tears were being ignored. I get a pen and some paper and start venting my anger,my pain, my shame, my joy,my humor, my thoughts. No longer a child I'm the man of the building. And I ain't stopping till I'm in that spotlight. So I continue to create music from my soul. I won't stop till I reach my goal. But everybody tell me my dream is impossible. But I tell'em okay and just run through the stereotypes and boxes they put me in.