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    This one here's for The Creator

    'Trying to get over...' like Curtis Mayfield said
    I was a problem child, running wild in the night
    Livin on a not-so-safe set of life
    Caught up in the rapture, quick to blast ya
    Neglected as a juvenile, so labelled a 'ghetto bastard'
    Forced to live the life of a hoodster on the prowl
    Goin through my life with a permanent frown
    But still you stood by me and you got me here safely
    Never turned away from me when others lost faith in me
    Even when I was a non-believer and doubted your existence
    You still shed mercy on my ignorance
    How can I say this, no words can't explain
    How much I thank you for helpin me deal with the pain
    For sparin my life at times I thought I was through
    All praise is due, here's to you
    So

    [CHORUS]
    This is for the lover in you
    This is for the things that you do
    This time I will take up for you
    Cause your love's gon' last forever

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    Now as I reminisce like Minnie Riperton in a Pendleton
    I'm havin flashbacks 'lookin at these photographs'
    Glancin at old flicks of me and my dogs
    Thinkin how we all played little league football
    No set-trippin, we was down for one another
    From pups to mutts, we came up, Westside hustlers
    You couldn't stop us, no matter what you told us
    Starched Curduroys with the fresh peachy folders
    Washington High School, damn, them was the days
    The 12th grade came and we went our own ways
    Doin what we had to do to make ends meet
    Some of us went to college and some kicked the streets
    Some of us passed away, some just faded
    Some turned snitch, and some is incarcerated
    Me, I been blessed to catch wreck over beats
    But without you, this wouldn't be complete
    So

    [CHORUS]

    (Ooh child, things ain't gettin any easier...)
    Survivin in the ghetto you gotta stay strong
    But realistically no man out here can make it alone
    Ain't no sleepin, none of us creepin
    I see the men that's in the streets, and
    Smokers fiendin, the drama got me thinkin
    How I need to play as if I was a Stylistic
    And stop and look and listen
    Take a second out to count my blessings
    Cause you coulda laid me down a long time ago
    But you let me live, and God knows I ain't a angel
    So I'ma take this opportunity to flip the script
    For the lover of you, cause props is due
    For sparin my life at times I thougth I was through
    I gotta give it up, here's to you
    So

    [CHORUS]

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Howard Hewett, Crazy Toones, Rhythm D. y WC and the Maad Circle

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