Angels

I don't wanna be a falling star that's sick of Hustling & falling short

For the sport of pushing foreign cars

This for the ones who never got to start Wanted that leading role had the soul

But ain't get the part

I know a smoker who think he Jordan once Hit the rock

Know a hustler say he can't hit his head till He fed the block

I pray my Son never hear them stories bout His pop

Setting up shop knowing his way around a Box & clock

Don't ever dwell on ya past like it's just too Late

Ya birth & death nothin more important Than those dates

It was some nights I made em stretch just To bless the table

It was times me & my brova fought like Cain & Abel