At 3, Supreme comes to give his boy a pat and a pound,
put his hoodie on the couch,
his Timberlands up on the coach
so his bitch can bring him a beer.
' So, this is the Nuclear family?
Daddy makes a mess of his baby′s mother's hair as they fuck
'til her mother comes in from work.
and Jr. is the only one who accepts he's just a child.
Supreme leaves out before Mommy comes kick his lazy narrow behind back onto the street.
The bodega in the 40's is midblock where bullets flock,
no names engraved and he may be next.
Shielded by the patron saint of the brothers.
Being there is all there is.
Living lovely without turning the corner,
reaching for a swig brings sweat to his brow and shit to his mouth,
dispelling knowledge on the stuffs,
the pleasing things the baby′s mother do,
dousing the sidewalk with wretch of a boy/man,
breaking Friday night to seek manhood in a paper bag.
Says, "Fatherhood is real cool
and the kid looks like me so she better not let nothing happen to him or I'm a gonna kill the bitch."
Jr. in her arms, patiently at the door,
doesn't know what she misses.
Supreme rode off into the sunset with a 3 to 6 all his own.
Took a week for her to find out,
a minute to promise devotion,
her life on hold as Supreme calls checking on his boy