Choices Lyrics

Choices, life is about choices

Every day we hearing different voices

Some are quiet, some are boisterous

Separate the signal from the noises

Choices, life is about choices

Every day we hearing different voices

Some are quiet, some are boisterous

Separate the signal from the noises

From the back of mom's busted station wagon

My eyes spy d-boys on the block

Guarding it like sentinels as they pushed rock

On cracked streets with cracked glass to cracked peeps

Shattered systematically so solace souls seek

We turn the corner onto McAboy

Where Folks with pitchforks try to crack a boy

Teach gangster discipline 'til it's attaboy

Convert kids to hustlers, dealers, & gat-a-boys

One day a homeboy & I play football outside

Taking turns being QB, ready, set, hike

Tryna be Cunningham throwing with all our might

Warranted scrambles to the Moon when we can't take flight

As we're having fun, one teen starts trouble

Steals the ball, then threatens to burst our bubble

He laughs while we're frowning - we ask what he wants

He pulls out cash, shows his stash & jewels he flaunts

Our eyes get big; he drops a bomb nonchalantly

"Ayyo I want y'all to sell this crack for me!"

I stare at my patna; he stares back informatively

We're nine years old, suddenly Bama heat turns cold

I have visions of my future if I join the fold

Fast money, clothes, jail cells, shot by someone I sold

He gets mad, tosses the ball when we quickly say "No!"

Choices, life is about choices

Every day we hearing different voices

Some are quiet, some are boisterous

Separate the signal from the noises

Choices, life is about choices

Every day we hearing different voices

Some are quiet, some are boisterous

Separate the signal from the noises

First semester, senior year, Hoggard High

AP classes, hard exams, not bothered by

Distractions at home or school cuz I'm focused

My target - college; I'm locked & loaded

To hit bullseye I study hard for the grade

And stay away from the games people play

Filling applications & writing essays

For scholarships & acceptance - the best days

In Phys Ed this occasion we tossed the ball

Anxious for the World Series & playoffs

We're partnered up; next to me this kid Tank

No ambition, always suspended, & stank

As we're throwing he's talking trash - I oblige

Ole Nutty Professor nephew - I try to fry

He's saying some junk, but it don't apply

Through all this we're still letting the balls fly

He's still talking; I laugh, pay him no mind

He throws a rock as I respond in kind

I'm blindsided, *BAM!*, it busts up my lip

He sees I'm mad, the coward tries to dip

Ready to make him my punching bag, so I chase

Determined to break his face & catch a case

But I realize I'd lose it all; I absorbed it

We squash it; my lips busted for senior portraits