Pharoahe Monch - Never Walk Alone lyrics
[Pharoahe Monch - Never Walk Alone lyrics]
Thought I told you
I'll never let you walk alone
Scene one, The opening shot
We pan across prostitution and crime
This view through the eyes of a
Child that seen 365 eight times
Pops is scared, the proverbial definition of
This latchkey kid
His moms works things to the bone
48 hours us some she never at home
But she light that ass up
Catch that ass lying honey in the water
Grilled cheese with the iron
Screams with the sirens, the murder scenes
It seems his life to one block
Snares and the gun shots
Plays in the shadows, no need for sun block
Take the E to Queens last stop
You can come watch
He's intelligent, clever, however
Foot at the bed, bows his
Head, close his eyes, hands together
He prays, "Father, if you're truly the Father
No need to bother, where's my father?"
Thought I told you
I'll never let you walk alone
They lost everything they owned and
A home to a fire
Moms got fired told em she retired
Subtitles read like: "7 years later"
Fast forward, past puberty
The smooth operator on the block
Where the gators got more love than haters
The youngest local
Pharmaceutical administrator
Nah, nah, nah, for real
Chill that's my moms!
Slide the work to his mans
Slipped a 50 in the palm
Punched a nigga belly, stepped on his feet
Slammed the child on the hard concrete
Next thing
Father moved from a prayer long forgotten
Food in the dumpster where
His cell smells rotten
Get your hustle on, punch that clock in
Where the prostitutes patrol and
The streets be watching
The father reveals himself to his son but is
Thought I told you
I'll never let you walk alone
Masterfully written ordained by God
As a classical piece spit it passionately
Mimic the clapping of heat
Over immaculate beats to capture the beast
Verses touch the youth like Catholic priests
Strong survivor
We catch hairline fractures at least
From a graphic depiction of rapping police
Fuck em! Let's go hard!
They track your whereabouts through
E-ZPass and MetroCards
Young Black Americans left so scarred
Just making it to 20 is a test so hard
But Lord, somehow, some way, if I can
I'll be the Soul Train in this American grand
I'll never let you walk alone
Scene one, The opening shot
We pan across prostitution and crime
This view through the eyes of a
Child that seen 365 eight times
Pops is scared, the proverbial definition of
This latchkey kid
His moms works things to the bone
48 hours us some she never at home
But she light that ass up
Catch that ass lying honey in the water
Grilled cheese with the iron
Screams with the sirens, the murder scenes
It seems his life to one block
Snares and the gun shots
Plays in the shadows, no need for sun block
Take the E to Queens last stop
You can come watch
He's intelligent, clever, however
Foot at the bed, bows his
Head, close his eyes, hands together
He prays, "Father, if you're truly the Father
No need to bother, where's my father?"
Thought I told you
I'll never let you walk alone
They lost everything they owned and
A home to a fire
Moms got fired told em she retired
Subtitles read like: "7 years later"
Fast forward, past puberty
The smooth operator on the block
Where the gators got more love than haters
The youngest local
Pharmaceutical administrator
Nah, nah, nah, for real
Chill that's my moms!
Slide the work to his mans
Slipped a 50 in the palm
Punched a nigga belly, stepped on his feet
Slammed the child on the hard concrete
Next thing
Father moved from a prayer long forgotten
Food in the dumpster where
His cell smells rotten
Get your hustle on, punch that clock in
Where the prostitutes patrol and
The streets be watching
The father reveals himself to his son but is
Thought I told you
I'll never let you walk alone
Masterfully written ordained by God
As a classical piece spit it passionately
Mimic the clapping of heat
Over immaculate beats to capture the beast
Verses touch the youth like Catholic priests
Strong survivor
We catch hairline fractures at least
From a graphic depiction of rapping police
Fuck em! Let's go hard!
They track your whereabouts through
E-ZPass and MetroCards
Young Black Americans left so scarred
Just making it to 20 is a test so hard
But Lord, somehow, some way, if I can
I'll be the Soul Train in this American grand