Sins of the Father (A Hustlaz Regrets)

stop lying to yourself saying you hustle for your kids
you making dough but wont find them a decent place to live

you keep them right in the projects cause that's where the money is
until a shotgun blast hit shorty in the ribs

now your regrets are manifesting while you're staring at him bleed
he got a thousand pairs of  sneakers but he can barely read

thats my son!!!!!! headed for trauma/emergency
Lord let him live instead you can take me

 you drop to your knees and plead
I'll surrender my life repent for my evil deeds

give up the street life even work at Mickey Ds
go back to school even get my G.E.D

please Lord he cant die I wont my son back
overhead you hear " we need two units of blood stat"






                                         Big Potent
Copyright © | Year Posted 2006

Poem

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