Verse One (Roosta)
Yeah! What does it mean being a human being without a dream? To some it seems having things, really ain’t a thang. Hit the strip club, make it rain, simple pleasure suppresses pain. Spend a fortune, elude extorsion, and you’re broke as fuck, man what a shame. I guess that’s just part of the game; having hope with nothin’ to gain. In all reality, it truly has to be. You’re knowingly knowin’ you’re a lame. Certain shit you just can’t explain. Like, why men live beyond their means. And, why most murders happen in the community by the hand of some niggaz with low self-esteem. Did Martin Luther really have a dream? Or, was it a nightmare as it seems? Cause ain’t no volunteers to play hand, when every man wants to be the king. The hell you mean ain’t no “I” in team? When yellow crime tape cross the scene; and you’re the only one standin’ in front of the judge when he or she hands down a life sentencing, Nigga! So, keep your nose clean, as the moral of the story’s unfolding. Keep holding to what you got. Stop focusing on who the fuck is not. When the day comes and life pops, like the sprocket on the hand of a broke clock. You best have your shit together like a farmer that harvest sunlight before the winterfall drops nigga!
Chorus (Brittney Harrington)
Mmm… Mmm… You better turn your light on. Let it shine like the one over the back door (So you can see). What’s comin’ towards ya? Time'll run up on ya, staring down at you in the dark with light pointed right at ya. Watch where you aim your dreams, shoot for the galaxy, cause it’s your right. Yeah! Break them cycles. Don’t be a lifer. Vibrate higher.
Verse Two (Homebwoi)
Fresh to death, but we’re broke. Demanding change, but won’t vote. Pay rent, no property ownership. Without ownership there’s no hope. Kings don’t leave queens to lead the way. See the games we play sickened me with gutwrench. We flex for people that don’t love us back. It’s not only wack, but it’s lacking substance. Still get caught with the shawt in caught in the mix. Fallin’ for the same old tricks. Still trying to hit a lick? Hmph, I swear. Shouldn’t we be sick of this shit? Shouldn’t we be tired of low income housing? EBTs, no J.O.Bs, no skills to pay the bills, content with thrills, designer clothes, diamond grillz, poppin’ pills, sippin’ lean, chasin’ green, hearing screams of mothers cryin’, while their children dyin’ by the drive bys in the city streets. Make excuses for what we do, and how we act, but talk is cheap. It’s always what we’re ‘bout to do. As we fight for crumbs, as we play for keeps…
Spoken word (Brittney Harrington)
A dream deferred. A dream delayed. A dream come true. Which one belongs to you? Say they’re all attainable. The question is? Are you willing? Are you able? Synchronicities weaved in and out of your reality. Of, what was? What is? What your ancestors claimed for you on GP. It’s all right here! We don’t have to look too far. But, if you don’t pay attention… Well, life gets hard. That’s why we have to water our perspectives. Get protective about what we let in our cycles. Get intentional about where the focus flows, ‘cause if we’re not careful the dream can’t overflow; it'll become an illusion, untouchable. Forever lost in our own confusion. Where your dream at?