I know they say real men don't cry
So I let my quill do the weeping


Good Lord! I'm an adult now
Every mistake, is my fault now
Expectations, when I fall down
Is at an all high, I am all now

But I can't handle it, the pressure
I'm a dad but to dads I can't measure
All I had, all I wanted was pleasure
Instead I got blessed with a treasure

Can't even buy my boy the finest things
Timbaland boots and designer jeans
Fila cardigans and dark lenses
My failure downs my smart senses

Can't even get a job that pays
No time to take him to plays
It's not like I don't make time
I spend all my time to make dime

I pay attention, I stay woke
Yet I'm still foolish and broke
Poor people are not wise
My coats are oversized

If someone had asked me
What'd you do for your son
I'd say I'd do any I'm tasked with
Feed and raise him, but I can't do none

I can't even think of to die
I can't even think of to lie
I know all I can do is try
Reason I can't even cry

Reason my quill is weeping
What a failure I am
Not tears but blood it's dripping
Dad, what does it takes to be a man?




© Ovedje Jeffery Jigs'

Damn!