The Man
He wakes up early in the morning and starts his day with a prayer
Thankful that instead of hell, he still wakes up in his lair
He stumbles to the mirror and looks at his reflection
He hates the man he sees, he hates the life he’s protecting
He steps in the tub expecting to wash away hurt
But the pain remains because showers only wash away dirt
As he dresses himself he only conforms to more lies
Because to these streets he’s a thug and these clothes help that disguise
He walks out the door, his pockets full of supply
He hits his corner and chills, for this serves as his nine to five
He hates himself for what he’s doing; what he’s serving these kids
But this is what the world made him and he’s just trying to live
These people smoke, shoot up, and some of them snort
He wants to escape, but he has a family to support
What these people take into their body to give them relief
He knows in the long run will only leave them deceased
He’d rather sacrifice a life than see his family struggle
That’s why he makes these choices, that’s why he hustles
Most people hate his ways, but these are the ones that don’t realize
They never walked in his shoes; they never looked through his eyes
These streets break down his muscle, these streets make him suffer
These streets hold his heart, therefore these streets make him tougher
He wants to turn things around; he’s doing all that he can
But after all he’s only human, he’s only a man
- DiJon Williams