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"