WHY MAMA?


Prophet isn’t welcome in his own home town


Why, Mama, why do you cry? Is it cause I made you mad?  Is it cause you fought with Dad? I’ll be good, I’ll eat all of my food and I’ll clean up my room, I just can’t stand to watch you cry anymore, Mama, don’t lock yourself in. Open up the door, let me see you, Mami, wanna be with you, but Mama’s gotta give me up, cause no child support’s coming in. We never seem to make ends meet, and it’s getting really cold cause they turned off the heat, and to top it all off, I have a brother who’s just a baby. The last time I saw my dad, he said to me, “You’re the man of the house, I’m about to split, so be tough, and take care of your mother, take care of your brother,” as he took a hit.

I agreed, and I did, so I grew up way too fast, the fights between us would last and last

Cause it wasn’t normal for a five year old to be asked what was asked of me, but it made me the person I am, you see. Cause sometimes we learn from the pain life brings, so I’m glad, I ain’t mad, I didn’t have the things like Nintendo and a bicycle, but somehow, every Christmas was a miracle. But it wasn’t, you had to be at work, so you couldn’t be present when I opened up your gifts, but the real gift was when you told me to lift my eyes to the sky, cause God had a place in his heart for the poor, but I didn’t want to be with this mentality of the poor anymore. So I thank God for days that are dark

If it wasn’t for my humble start, I’d be rich in my flesh, but be broke in my heart.


What comes around goes around, my baby

And what goes up, it must come down, baby

Never take the short cut, always take the longer,

cause what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger X2


The cycle keeps spinning, the cycle keeps winning, I’m tired of killing these beats with lyrics that nobody is hearing. Why do I cry at the top of my lungs at this music, trying to use it to reach the lost? Its easy to believe that He loves the world, but it’s harder to believe when it comes to me. It’s like having a relationship with all of God’s people, but not having a relationship with Him. So who’s the one lost?  Maybe it’s been me, trying to find myself through this alter-ego named Masheti. But I guess I’m the people that God likes to use, people with the substance abuse, people who don’t got it all together so that God can make it better, cause the weather has been promised and there will be a storm. There will be a storm.


God, it was hard, I just wanted to die, locked in my room getting high, asking “God, why I gotta be like this?” Self-destruct, cutting up my own wrists, or at least thinking about it every night, wondering what it would be like if I was gone tonight, would they notice in the morning with nobody to fight?  Or would they just go on drinking, thinking I’m back out in the streets slanging, which I never really did, but it doesn’t matter to them cause they’re gonna believe what they want to. They’re impossible to talk to. Estupido, mongolico, imbesil, no sirves para nada. Te voy a roper la cara. Child abuse at its best, but now that he found God, he can rest peacefully and truly appreciate more than the average joe. Having a father that will never go. I’ll never take the short cut, I’ll always take the longer, cause what doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger.