Renegade.

I had to hustle, my back to the wall, ashy knuckles.
Pockets filled with a lot of lint, not a cent, Gotta vent, lot of innocent of lives lost on the project bench, Whatchu hollerin? Gotta pay rent, bring dollars in.
By the bodega, iron under my coat, feelin braver, Doo-rag wrappin my waves up, pockets full of hope.
Do not step to me, I'm awkward, I box leftier often, My pops left me an orphan, my momma wasn't home.
Could not stress to me I wasn't grown, especially on nights I brought somethin home to quiet the stomach rumblings.
My demeanor, thirty years my senior, my childhood didn't mean much, only raisin green up.
Raisin my fingers to critics, raisin my head to the sky, Big I did it, multi before I die.
No lie, just know I chose my own fate, I drove by the fork in the road and went straight.