Strugglin' and striving, that's how the dough come.

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.

Picture me inside the misery of poverty, no man alive has ever witnessed struggles ive survived, praying hard for better days promised to hold on me and my dogs aint have a choice but to hold on.

Will I, succeed, paranoid from the weed and hocus pocus, try to focus but I can't see.

Everything in life is not all beautiful, not all fun. There is lots of killing and drugs.

Strugglin' and striving, that's how the dough come.

Unless we share with each other we gotta start makin' changes