If you walked by a street and you was walking a concrete and you saw a rose growing from concrete, even if it had messed up petals and it was a little to the side you would marvel at just seeing a rose grow through concrete. So way is it that when you see some ghetto kid grow out of the dirtiest circumstance and he can talk and he can sit across the room and make you cry, make you laugh, all you can talk about is my dirty rose, my dirty stems and how am leaning crooked to the side, u can't even see that I've come up from out of that.

Mama raised a hellraiser why cry, That's just life in the ghetto, do or die.

When your hero falls from grace, all fairy tales are uncovered Myth exposed and pain magnified, the grace pays uncovered He told me to be strong, but I confused to see it so weak You say never to give up, and it hurts to see what comes to be When your hero falls soley the stars, and so does the reception of tomorrow Without my hero, theres only me alone, to deal with my sorrow Your heart ceases to work, and your soul is not happy at all What are you expected to do, when your only hero falls

I don't know how to change the world but I know if I keep talking about how dirty it is out here, somebody gon clean it up.

I feel close to Marvin Gaye, Vincent van Gogh, because nobody appreciated his work until he was dead. Now it's worth millions.

Feel me now, picture my pain, embrace my words, make the world change.

Support me... If you don't understand me don't write about me