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propaganda - i ain't got an answer lyrics

when it’s apparent that you have failed as a parent
too bust tryna pay rent, homie now what?
long gone in a daze. you ain’t takin yo little bug hair to a-so scrimmages
no more. no football practice lil league movie nights no. you drive him too
his cute little puppy love’s girlfriend’s doctor’s appointment. she got a
date with a sonogram yo boy is officially a statistic now what? yo lil man,
he barely sproutin peach fuzz. he wanna be just like you. he writes poetry.
he fill a kick with the buffalo soldiers you chuckle. we live in the
suburbs. i work too hard for you to not struggle. you don’t know what you
talkin about. you soon find that so see oh economic status does nothing for
a skin color. to them he just a well dressed c–n, who’s parents got lucky.
he’s the b-tt of subliminal jokes. like his friends refer to rap as jungle
jive.
they see him and go “yo homie yo!” that’s how ya’ll talk right?
he’s checked out. he’s found other outlets. his good grades don’t fix his
depraved brain. he believes the gospel of young money. yolo. yo, and as
your mommy drops you off at the mall remember as you spoke about them
gunk’s. and every bite you take of that number 1, animal style is a bite
you stole from your daughters tummy. them gunk’s is about a month’s worth
of diapers and food you fit a world on your feet. homie this is your fault,
your job, your responsibility. don’t get mad when momma won’t give ya 20
bucks. it’s your turn, i don’t know what to tell you. i ain’t got an answer
x3. when it’s apparent, that you have failed as a parent. homie i ain’t got
an answer. man i ain’t got an answer. homie i ain’t got an answer. i don’t
know. it’s apparent sometimes i think i’ve failed as a parent. and my son
having autism is rough. but maybe he don’t speak cuz words don’t say much.
maybe he don’t need words to communicate his love. and sometimes his
silence causes me to stumble. it’s possible he’s a version of me that’s
more humble. and i think my child finds more joy in playin with my phone,
than playin on his own. will he she’d a tear when i’m gone? i’m wrestling
with the shame of an outsider view of me, cause life is the spotlight, and
eyein’ in on securities. but i know his laugh, it lights up a thousand
rooms. and when he speaks to me it just like a flower blooms. this has just
become my own visual diary. i’m at the doctor’s office just hopin they
would lie to me. that my son would be alright. but if he’s not, my son
would be alright. cause he is god’s. autism, single cell, or down syndrome,
still keepin the faith in the midst of hard livin’. we stand together cause
we have no other place to go. my son and i we live and fight even tho… i
ain’t got an answer x3. when it’s apparent, that you have failed as a
parent. homie i ain’t got an answer. man i ain’t got an answer. homie i
ain’t got an answer. i don’t know. when it’s apparent that you have failed
as a parent, you cancel a quinceanera, cause lil mamas feta be one. scroll
through your brain’s i phone and unopened emails. how many daughters hugs
did i not reply too? you ain’t lyin to me i know that song that you sing
and that promise ring was real cute but it’s really for the parents. she
ain’t savin it for marriage. and never had plans too, she in a fetal
position, now carrying a fetus. your worldly efficiently has left the
philosophical is layin in your living room considering abortion. them
eighth grade boys is textin naked pictures and your daughter to each other,
now what?
and baby girl lemme show panties as yo facebook picture, now what? this is
your fault and i ain’t got an answer. dad sit in it, soak in it, stew in
it, you failed. better get it together boy she needs you more than ever.
and i ain’t got an answer. it’s like that moment when you realize the
pinnacle, and modern psychology has failed you. at the end of modern
psychology homie. all that junk, it fails. and yo little girl, yo little
boy he ain’t the person you trained him to be. look, i don’t know. man, i
don’t know, i don’t know the answer. sho, you know? homie look all that
stuff we gotta get our heads outs the sand homie. life is happenin wit our
children. look i’m not the answer, this alb-m, this song, these records,
they ain’t yo answer. i don’t know the answer. but i know, i know who got
the answer. and let’s all point to the savior together boy! look i ain’t
perfect neither is you. but let’s look to the man that knows it. i’ll walk
with you boy i promise you. pray for me, i’ll pray for you. let’s raise our
kids boy, we don’t have to may models out there. i know like you know.
let’s set a new standard for fathers. let’s be there for our kids.

- propaganda lyrics

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