Mr.Simms

Once upon a time in America
There was a black teen with a dream
And a pair balls
Little ole mini me didn't have the wherewithal
For a session in the booth
But he found his calling card
There he go signing applications for a j-o-b
Saving every single penny for a m-i-c
No matter what the situation he can turn on a beat
And put his life down on a paper like it’s therapy
But we gon' see if he can find inner peace
Or setup shop the fast way supplying the streets
Ski mask with it
Hoping through the window where y'all living
And walking out you’re sliding back door
With your television
Can't you tell the vision displaying a high definition
Of ambition come witness the man mission
Clocks ticking he's trying to get ahead of his time
Never mind the territory and the drama around
Terrible stories embedded in the back of his mind
The back is a crowd surrounded by a shadow of doubt
Words trying to find a way to come out
To put a record on a pedestal mount
Wreck it and bounce more for ounce whoa