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Last night at the kitchen table
He told his mother he wanted to be a hero
After washing his hands before taking to his homework
But as he heads out, all he sees is Villains and Negros
A city filled with faithless people
Thinking if they don't believe then where will he go
Losing a grip on the dreams in tow
The red, white & blue he won’t tell and show
As fear invades and overthrows as sirens grow
As his mother near the schoolyard cruises slow
He slides his seat a little low and wonders how can he ever change what’s seen from behind tinted windows?
Hmm… but he likes those rims tho, kryptonite for the kids yo’
But what hurts worse is being a man broke, so he rides, comfortable in mind saying “I just can't afford to soar any mo'†cause daily it's a planet cold without x&o's
Now it's simply "Get Money Ho’"
Yeah little man copes not a cape but an ego, changes his report
Tells his classmates he wants wings that are dope, like wings on a lambo
Homies screaming damn bro
As we fast forward to where he steps out like a bird, like a plane in the eyes of the po'
“So fly†looking down on these folks, asking what the hell he’s still here fo’
Like he doesn't know that he once wrote, that he once swore
So as he takes off from the corner store of a black hole towards the big city glow
He passes murals written on the curb in a child’s words
"Hey Metropolis, what about the ghetto"
-CLD
