| Yo, this one goes out to all the unsung heroes
|
| The ones that’s raising their kids and loving their wives
|
| This is dedicated to Doug Atkins, Kofi Boateng, Manuel Palma Senior,
|
| and of course Phillip Soto rest in peace
|
| Yeah
|
| It’s my eighth birthday, 1984
|
| I wake up to shoes, clothes, toys and more
|
| Everybody that I loved stared through the front door
|
| Who are you? |
| I’ve never seen your face before
|
| Unsure of what to say, I don’t speak at all
|
| you look like me standing six feet tall
|
| Back to the wall uncomfortable with you in my house
|
| I wish that mom would kick you out
|
| Time to blow the candles out, happy birthday we sing
|
| I notice, that you don’t say a thing
|
| A gift you didn’t bring, and mom looked sad
|
| She had to tell her little boy that you were his dad
|
| Feeling bad,, I don’t see nothing good
|
| Trade you in for a new dad if I could
|
| Still you stood, until you stepped out for a smoke
|
| The smoke cleared, and you disappeared like a ghost
|
| Nobody on the planet can do your job
|
| No better combination than you and mom
|
| When it’s right it’s right
|
| When it’s wrong it’s wrong
|
| A house ain’t a home when daddy’s gone
|
| Nobody on the planet can do your job
|
| No better combination than you and mom
|
| When it’s right it’s right
|
| When it’s wrong it’s wrong
|
| A house ain’t a home when daddy’s gone
|
| I didn’t have the average black dad
|
| Planting the seed that grow mad
|
| Wondering if everything I had inside me was bad
|
| My pops was African and proud
|
| My mom’s from L.A. and loud
|
| They’d disagree until the sun went down
|
| Come around my fifth year of school they were cool on staying together
|
| My pops was like «Whatever I do, it’s to better you kids
|
| And I did, all that I know to do
|
| But your mother tends to misguide you
|
| What’s most important is school
|
| She’d rather you fail, but know your bible
|
| She’s my rival, she’ll disagree, just to start a fight»
|
| So, back and forth they’d go, with their defensive reason
|
| Mom would work my father checked our homework every evening
|
| I was deceiving, F’s and D’s I was receiving
|
| I didn’t get whippings I got African beatings
|
| I hope I’m not misleading my pop’s a great man
|
| Still lobbying for college, still an anti-rap fan
|
| Nobody on the planet can do your job
|
| No better combination than you and mom
|
| When it’s right it’s right
|
| When it’s wrong it’s wrong
|
| A house ain’t a home when daddy’s gone
|
| Nobody on the planet can do your job
|
| No better combination than you and mom
|
| When it’s right it’s right
|
| When it’s wrong it’s wrong
|
| A house ain’t a home when daddy’s gone
|
| Yo, how many short comings he has
|
| But he’s full of love and deep
|
| Ever since my birth when he was only 17
|
| Faithful to my mother, he saw her as a queen
|
| Wouldn’t leave her bedside when cancer came to the scene
|
| He’s a, man of faith, a pillar in the church
|
| But mostly, my dad’s about (work, work, work)
|
| Uh-huh
|
| Some would say my dad’s a workaholic and
|
| Some would say that I’m a workaholic and
|
| Now that’s how we usually relate
|
| A similar struggle, where our debts communicate
|
| Financial provision and is a blessing
|
| He’s taught me perseverance, through all of life’s testing
|
| It’s, do or die, never quit, stand firm in faith
|
| Wise in counsel, attentive with the ear
|
| Even thousands of miles away, I know he’s right here
|
| Nobody on the planet can do your job
|
| No better combination than you and mom
|
| When it’s right it’s right
|
| When it’s wrong it’s wrong
|
| A house ain’t a home when daddy’s gone
|
| Nobody on the planet can do your job
|
| No better combination than you and mom
|
| When it’s right it’s right
|
| When it’s wrong it’s wrong
|
| A house ain’t a home when daddy’s gone |