The Hustler

yesterday we used to pray today you say it ought not be that way I was born in the gutter my mother was a whore she sold her junk in the trunk in back of the liquor store I was raised by my grandma Mable feeding her dog underneath the table back then as a young G living came most naturally as the years would pass having every reason to grasp those silly days of my youth with the loose tooth shopping trips at the nearby mall playing bat and ball at the end of my street Pop Rocks those fancy socks eating candy with the dots loose lips sinks ships took some time to move those hips Went to high school thought I was way to cool smoking weed listening to boom box with Scot Lerock block parties that where it began the day I became a man working on my tan selling dope down at the 8th Street Station getting busted by the cops doing time made a name for myself on the streets The hustler was soon released had the best of suits but a noose around my neck What the heck had to put things in check Had my mind on my money but my money was gone Until that day I went to church payed a visit with the savior Now I get high with the Lord up in the sky No fly by or getting shot in the eye God is good to those who love & put him first Most of my friends were in the back seat of a hearst The moral of this dope joint is have faith in God Forget about your good for nothing friends yet who are they anyway Let us learn to stay humble everyday and bow the knee to pray Couldn't share my story any other way