Money:The Root of Evil
in the city that never sleeps you walked from day to night
from hustling on the corner to running business state to state
some call you a looser others say your bad news
but to me your a man who grew up doing what he had to do
you were raised in the ghetto of the worst city in the east
brooklyns very own son became a self made millionaire
long nights ducking on the corner behind trash cans
playing cops and robbers with the men in blue
when it was time to go home you left work outside
taking care of your wife and children and retiring
in for the night never forgetting what is right
the fight for a dollar meant more blood shed
the daylight is your enemy as the nighttime is your friend
every city block has a name to the name belongs a hustler
every hustler has soldiers that will die claiming their hood
for every loss theres a gain for every gain there is a loss
you became the king of new york with a hefty price
the people you trusted are the ones who took your life
now your gone forever but the game still plays on
your memory i hold dear to my heart
we should of stopped you before you ever began!
"
dedicatecd to the memory of PRESTON "two shoes"
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