I hope for the best, but plan for the worst,
With earth under my fingernails, hands in the dirt,
Excavating expectations, I’m digging for my dreams,
My hands aren’t clean but it’s not what it seems,
I never had the means, to make it to the cream,
Unstained, but I ain’t ashamed that I’m not pristine,
Some people claim clean... doesn't mean they’re perfect,
It just means they can afford better detergent,
That's only the surface; they can never scrub enough,
They aren’t coming clean; its just a cover up,
I’m not deceived by the scent of the soap,
Fragrance of these fakers is a stench in my nose,
In a sense you could say the incense of their souls,
Has a scent reminiscent of shit more than rose
I vent with the prose, the pen is my sword,
But I try not to hurt em cause revenge is the lord’s,
Father forgive them for they know not,
Forgive me for leaving the sheep, lemmings, and robots,
Forgive me for leaving the streets back on my old block,
But I got tired of ducking the fucking police roadblocks,
Ever wonder why they keep us roped off?
Started moving work cause we couldn’t find no jobs,
Started doing dirt, but I’ll get down off the soapbox,
Life’s a bitch, she really gives a mean blow job,
She really sucks sometimes, feeling stuck sometimes,
Out of luck I even feel like giving up sometimes,
But Pac said keep your head up,
Malcolm said, when they knock you down get up,
B.I.G. said, the sky’s the limit,
Martin had a dream, and I am trying to live it,
To the limitless infinite,
Life’s a gift, some people dying to give it...