I saw my old man, first time in a year, today.
He was all dressed up, black as usual, looks 
like a new suit, it went well with his favourite tie.
Must've taken a day off from work, hard to believe.
It was mid-morning and he was there when the 
Van pulled up.
Tall, elegant, grim.
Tears in his heart, pain in his eyes.
Looked right through me as if I wasn't there.
My Mom, my brothers, my sisters, my woman, 
my Nigga's, all conspicuously absent.
Wassup bro?
How ya doing son?
Hi honey!
Nothing!
No love at all Dawg, nothing for me today. 
But that's the thug life.
You take your cards and you play.

Back in my old neighbourhood.
Unreal!
The Concourse Plaza across the road.
Tamika and I always caught the new movies there.
Yankee Stadium, just up the street, closed for the 
winter of course.
Park close to it, where we use to play ball.
Morrisania II Apartments down the block, on 161st.
My boy Randy and a couple of other guys
live right there.
Use to hang out on the block, consuming copious
amounts of liquor and ganja.
Buy fried chicken and chinese, mess with the chicks.
Bandanna on my shaved head, baggy jeans, the newest 
Jordan sneakers.
Gold on my neck, my fingers, my ear, my teeth.
Hip, fly, that was my way.
Smooth Dawg.
Nothing close to how I showed up today.

Had this new haircut, bulletproof vest and a jumpsuit.
That was new too.
You wouldn't recognize the shoes.
Big silver chains on my wrist, my waist, my feet.
Cops to the left, right, front and back of me.
They're too kind.
Controlling the crowd, clearing my path.
I would've like to hold my head up and stride 
inside, the way I used to.
Wishful thinking.
All I could muster was a lame shuffle, 
sorta like a baby.
Embarrassing.
It didn't  prevent them, the victims families
from verbally abusing me.

Rolled right off my back though.
Fuck them all.
You haven't met Tamika, have you?
She's eighteen, tall and slim.
Prettiest chick in the hood son, I swear.
Smart too, got a scholarship to Howard.
Everybody, her folks, even my mom
said she was too good me.
She listened to no one.
Opinions are like personalities, she told me,
everybody has one and the only one that I 
care about is mine.
Never once asked me where the money,  
the clothes or the cars came from.
I remember the first time we walked up my block .
The boys were there, loafting as usual.
Trying not to stare at the the nipples poking 
out of the yellow blouse. The long legs, protruding
from a short, short, skirt. Her ass rolling like log.
I'm thinking, look all you want Nigga, step outta line
and you're getting a ticket to the morgue.
They were impressed, told me later.
You're the man now Dawg.

I was on my way to get her.
Went up on Fordham and got a new sound 
system installed in my Lexus.
We were gonna drive around.
Probably end up in a motel some place.
Cool, clear night , little after nine pm.
Saw my best friend Omar, chillin on
Washington Avenue, O'neill Square Park.
Pulled over, he had some good weed and
we were chillin.
Group comes up, two dudes, four chicks.
Three of them black, one puerto rican.
They sat on a bench close by.
Bitches were fine son.
Omar, player wannabe, walks over to do his thing.
The guys aren't happy, but he ignores them.
I'm cool, enjoying my herb, listening to Jay-Z.
All of a sudden, a loud scream. 
Omar is yelling.
I looked up in time to see the Nigga fall. 
Just like that, it was on.
Glock in my hand, blood in my eyes Dawg.
Shot them all.

We jumped into the car and raced off.
Omar is bleeding from a cut on his head.
Hospital was outta the question, so we parked
up on Jerome and checked it out. 
It wasn't serious.
Wrapped my bandanna around his head,
pulled on his cap and got out.
Called his cousin  to come get him.
Took the gun with him, said he'd get rid of it.
I trusted him like a brother, we go way back.
Besides I was in a hurry to meet Tamika, wanted 
to establish an alibi.
Don't talk to nobody and you didn't see me
tonight.
Don't worry Dawg, I got your back.
Twenty four hours later, they picked me up 
off the street
NYPD came knocking.
Nigga gave me up, quicker than a bitch in heat.

So you gonna get me off right?
You're my lawyer, I'm depending on you son.
Attempted murder, possession, assault.
I don't wanna die in here.
Don't wanna do life.
Don't wanna become nobody's bitch.
Fuck that!
Talk to somebody. 
Get me a deal son.
I know shit.
I'm no rat, but my back is against the wall 
and they've abandoned me.
I'll say anything, do anything, whatever the fuck it 
takes for me to get on up outta here.
I've been thinking, I'm only twenty.
I can do a little time, get out and get my life 
back on track.
You know what I'm saying?

Don't worry Dawg, I got your back.