Prospect

Small town boy got big city dreams

He feels the chill of the night through his jeans

It bites his skin like the knife he carries

Shadows his face underneath his hoodie

Walks to a home that the government owns

Holes fill the walls where the photos should go

Last night's take away's still on the stove

(He takes a) Seat at the table and goes over his notes

He's tryna make it, while tryna hide

Two edges to his double life

School of thought to his left and her legs to his right

He's just tryna survive

Streetwise way beyond his years

Can launch his fist like handles Shakespeare

Nobody knows, and he doesn't care

All that matters are the colors he wears

Hungry for something that he can't eat

Calms his nerves with every word that he sees

Lights a cigarette, has a cup of tea

(He takes a) Seat at the table and continues to read

He's tryna make it, while tryna hide

Two edges to his double life

School of thought to his left and her legs to his right

He's just tryna survive

Rise and shine, but nothing looks bright

Books camouflaged by cans, jumps on his bike

Dad gave it as a gift last night

Wonder if he's changed for good this time

Shrugs and hopes for the best guy (Headphones on)

Prepares for the test, mouthing words with the song

Robin Hood heroes

Miss gave him props on a job well done

And a "Parents must be proud of you, son"

Smiling back with a nod, little does she know

Enrolled himself with no help from home

Has a bike in the bushes, scared that it might be hot

So he doesn't wanna push it

Game face hard, raise hoodie, full mast

Set sail to the yard, played jester of the class

He's tryna make it, while tryna hide

Two edges to his double life

School of thought to his left and her legs to his right

He's just tryna survive