Poem For Mom

[Verse 1]
Poem, poem, poem, poem, poem
Poem for my mom, and all the moms for my dad
And all the dads tryna get it, tryna make a livin' for they children
American immigrants, some say a predicament
Or a situation, in the midst of its frustrations
First generation , see the darkness in the void
And the beauty in the world, despite its problems
I start fights and quarrels and don't solve them
'Cause the ego is so tauntin'
I see the single parents tyin' loose ends from Payless
Off that income tax, and our oath knew jack, like that Kodak Black
On my floor to swipe, my heart intact, pour it into wraps
Just like some yak or white girl frap'
But me and mom like our coffee black, just like that
This is my Al-Fatiha, Bismillah, yeah, yeah
So it goes, the reverend tied it slow but it's like something's cold
The lady has a baby and it's tamed by the crazy
'Cause she has to tame Shadi
And you know that I'm crazy 'cause I get that shit from you, oooh
I know you don't want me to curse, but sometimes I got to
I was like "Fuck the rules and fuck the schools"
Momma you know I act a fool, I'm about to get a tattoo
And you know I don't know how to love anyone
I keep my wrath tall, ain't loveable
'Cause where I'm from they spineless, Metal Gear Solid Snake
They wait to go sneak up and take God's concept
An untitled document, they got the page info, fuck y'all
With confidence, momma raised me well in spite of this
I'm sorry momma I'm still a savage, and yeah I'm still rappin'
But at least I ain't trappin'
Caterpillar stick, I'm waiting on my wings to grow
Bigger, and bigger, like clip 'em
So I can fly away from all these... killas
A new world to enter, soaking up the good, the bad, and the ugly
Real life, ain't it funny?
This a poem for the everyday civilian
Tryna make a day without pulling out the AK
'Cause they ain't makin' a killin' on payday money
Can't make me like how my mom made me
It's gotta be magic, homie

[Verse 2]
Momma made me with the powers that be and now I'm here tryna create my own recipe
Flippin' page to page tryna taste the glory
If I can't get a Grammy or make it to the stage, it's okay
As long as these words is great, and make you feel some type of way
Fulfill ya own prophecy, walkin' livin' canvases, waitin' to be painted
And just imagine, Florida on acid, DMT sunglasses, Clarence let 'em have it