The boy grew up, never saw how women should be treated
Every time she's either televised or beaten
How could he discern her as a woman with her own worth
When she's first referred to his belonging and never heard?
I'm 16 on 22, and it's no excuse I know it
Neither is turning it to a poem
I'm just trying to show, I've got a long way to go
Picking pieces up from inside a broken home
I'm not a product of my environment
But why do we treat women as products in a man's environment?
Why is she a means to an end
So we can see our best
It's like we've got to put the test with the osterone I guess
I've got a beautiful mum
Deserves every grain of hard work
Birthed, worked to the bone, only so we went first
Wish I could say the same
That as a kid I praised her more than the girl on a screen
What I thought would give manhood to me
I'm the last man standing in my name's family tree
But I swear rotten fruit won't ever grow from these leaves
But that fruit that will be sweet
Rich in love, joy and peace
Patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, self-control
I've got a long way to go
I'm not already thinking about a home and a picket fence
But I pick at insecurities I guess
I let the rest grow from the bs
Don't let it manifest
Before its the man I am
Cause if anyone could do it, it'd be you
Showed the world a soul that's bulletproof
So either I win or lose inside the coolest winter's cool
The only thing I want to be is beside you