I grew up with men that taught, brave
Men, who never feared the six-feet grave
Six-feet under the shade of the sun
They toiled with violent nature of grief
Hustling the dusty life with honest brief
As short as the briefs and breasts of lust
Taken in nights of steamy sexual desires
Looking for someone real, at least, at last
I grew up with men that taught, brave
Men, who never feared the six-feet grave
Men, who knew the wise ways of Street
Knowing, that giving a man his own poison
Makes a man stands with his own zeen
Making him a man amongst man, not less
But the truth, no lies, a man, not hopeless
In the world where all, is scripted in zine
I grew up with men that taught, brave
Men, who never feared the six-feet grave
Six-feet under the shade of the sun
And I ask you in sincerity my son -
Can a man stand in a country with women:
Women, ,who destroy it's own countrymen?
In a house with shouts, screams , cries -
That makes a neighbour wonder, who pulled
Who pulled this destructive G.B.V fuse
When it is said , it is done, it's called ABUSE
I grew up with men that taught, brave
Men, who never feared the six-feet grave
Men who knew, weakness, leads to strength
Men who knew, strongmen, can be frail
Men who walked shameless in a deadly path
Men who never talked about another 's trail -
When their backs and ears were turned,
Skipping in darkness to steal one's bosom
Men who knew, laughter can turn to sorrow
As sharp as the spear that took Sparrow
I grew up with men that taught, brave
Men who never drowned in the pool of own
A sickness that takes, more than it gives
I grew up with men that taught, brave
Men, who never feared the six-feet grave
Men who embraced life with all its rave
