On a house so poor,
nothing on the inside,
making it work,

There was hopelessness,
restlessness,
crying on the streets.

With the poverty,
the struggle,
the “keeping it real”.

One lone soldier,
riding
above the heads of the rest,
spoke a lyric in a rhythm,
and it wasn’t a jest .

Take the essence of the message,
see how it works,
successes, finesse’s,
wealth’s finest perks.

Hear what was said,
if you’re looking for a key.

Because the answer,
my friend,
isn’t always what you see.