He was a little black boy...
Infatuated with the likes of those who rapped and wrapped gold ropes around their necks and shot basketballs in nets.
He imitated his favorites
Standing in the mirror cyphering every lyric from the songs blasting thru his speakers.
Pretending he's in front of thousands, all cheering.
Witnessing a young king come to a league who set and broke records,
Everyday telling his mother he gone be on TV one day was like a broke record,
Inconsequential to the fact the he's going to be great because God put many obstacles in his way to prepare him.
To dare em
To Tempt em,
Taught him rules that will restrict him and later convict him
But convince him
That beating the odds isn't with a 357 a 9 or Mac 11.
Beating the odds is making it to 18, 21, or 25
Beating the odds is to survive
Becoming successful is to say you've arrived and everything you've learned has been applied!
That little black boy still believes
That little black boy still dreams
That little black boy still sees himself being the man he always told his mother he'd be because that little black boy has evolved
That lil black boy is,