Break Even - CunninLynguists, Tripp Doogan

Arrives alive, feet first, momma’s little burden

Who grows to lust lavish living like daddy’s little version

But the cops pop Pops on his grind from poor to riches

So a shackled man stands to name his first son Richard

Young, realizing why, but he despises his daddy’s lies

His sister, Karma, look just like his momma with daddy’s eyes

He sit in apartment looking out the window with daddy’s ride

His childhood passing by;

he’s growing too fast to cry

Too old to be told stories of knights in shining armor

That big sis, Destiny, recited nightly to him and Karma

Opposite bedtime, heard street tales of Papa’s fed time

Rolling stone with skull and bones tatted across his neckline

He learned to throw rags and load mags before he could read

His momma spending her rent on Boy when there ain’t nothing to eat

Tracking her arm up and turning cheap tricks for bumps

And he been checking the same empty refrigerator for months

Fast forward in time

(We are) searching for reason

(But we know) ain’t no way to rewind

So we spend that time just trying to break even

Watching momma’s body wither and hunger pains in his sister

From a teen to a king he stuck up his momma’s mister

No more peddling poison for profit off in this household

Took Papa’s strap and tap momma’s dealer until he was out cold

Whatever it takes, he does it dedicated to his sister and mother

Learning the game by bagging zips with his cousin

Keeping the fridge full now, well he got dollars by the fistful

A car with a system and a yard full of pit-bulls

King Rich the rich king who’s ride sits on things

And those who owe dough feel blows with gold rings

And momma raise Karma with Destiny right on her arm

In a project palace founded by violence, but far from harm

Ignoring his daddy’s letters, but his sisters anticipate

The visitation day, but he’s just focused on getting paid

He barely ever home, growing up alone

He had to rehabilitate his mom, keep his sisters from whoring

Now Rich is feeling himself, not concealing his wealth

And his cousin’s loving his product and improvidence felt

He’s crying for help, but Rich told him tighten his belt

And then Rich ditched his cousin, put his life on the shelf

He went from hustling to feed those in need to greed

And neglecting his cousin’s progress, police is pleased

Cause he helping to crucify Rich with times and dates

Names and states on license plates of cars supplying the weight

So Rich got his niggas out pitching on the curbs

While his cousin with the law, jaw singing like the birds

Said if he take the stand they plan to send him to the burb

So he pitched Rich to the Dixon, sent them to the birds

Cased him, replaced his bracelet with cuffs and chains

A fucking chain he flushed so much he plugged the drain

Leaving his sisters and his mother with nothing but more problems

And his new cell mate is his 50 year old father