Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real.
The only thing that comes to a sleeping man is dreams.
We live like caged beasts waiting for the day to let the rage free.
That's what I am, America's nightmare. I am what you made me, the hate and evil that you gave me.
Time to heal our women, be real to our women. And if we don't, then we'll have a race of babies, that hate the ladies that make the babies.
Today is built on tragedies, which no one wants to face, nightmares to humanities and morally disgraced. Tonight is filled with rage, violence in the air, children bred with ruthlessness because no one at home cares.
Now the baby's in the trash heap balling.
Take a look at my family, a different father every weekend.
How can I be a man if there is no role model?
I turn to a life of crime cause I came from a broken family.
We probably in hell already, our dumb asses not knowing.
It makes me unhappy when brothers make babies and leave a young mother to be a pappy.
I'm 23 years old. I might just be my mother's child, but in all reality, I'm everybody's child. Nobody raised me; I was raised in this society.
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