Room With a View

[Brother Ali] One side of the street, is Malone's Funeral Home and the Other side's a library, try very hard to picture this shit Walk through where I live at Where parents are embarassed to tell you they raise they kids at You'll need some half and half over 8-ball you can get that Fuck with Little Rodney and you'll get all of your ribs cracked In a location where slanging crack rock is not seen as a fuckin' recreation but a vocation And the sellers and smokers are both pacing Got one eye on Minneapolis P.T. they both racin' 3 for 50 is the supply and demand, and the Twin Cities' American heartland, and they Been busy, masterminds tearing apart plans And hoop dreamers ballin' with blisters on they hands With chains danglin' from the rims Pain strangles 'em from within Till' the belt around the arm makes the veins stand at attention I try to block it out with a bed sheet, the moonlights as a curtain Cause I'm not comforted by red and blue lights when I'm hurtin' Mommy loves you yeah I knew but I wasn't certain Cause the lenses through which she views life wasn't workin' As a boy she told me "wait til' your father to come home" I'm 24 still waitin' for my father to come home And some parents only touch they children when a whips brought That's why bad kids do bad shit, just so they could get caught And get touched, this growing up shit's rough That's a big part of why were so mixed up Shit we don't have Bar Mitzvah's We become men the first time our father hits us And we don't open gifts up Sister Regina from across the street is beautiful But for 50 bucks ain't nothing she won't do to you Used to be premium pussy now she used up For that same 50 bucks she got to do some new stuff Whatever it takes for you to pull the dollars out If you don't intervene then there's a day she'll turn her daughter out Speaking of kids I'm fixing lunch for my first born I had the windows wide open cause the weather's warm That's when the greatest hits of Donnie Hathaway Got interrupted by a drive-by shooting half a block away Faheem was in the window, he didn't get hit though All praise to Allah [Hook](3x) I see all this from the desk that I write my rhymes from Pen starts to scribble on it's own my minds numb But you can call me modern urban Norman Rockwell I paint a picture of the spot well