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To see him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold and he don't care
this house is a broken home
There's no control, he just lets his emotions go
We just explain it, and then we get our checks in the mail
It's ******** up ain't it, how we can come from practically nothin'
To bein' able to have any ********' thing that we wanted
That's why we sing for these kids that don't have a thing
Except for a dream and a ********' rap magazine
Who post pinup pictures on their walls all day long
Idolize their favorite rappers and know all their songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through s**t in they lives
So they sit and they cry at night, wishing they die
'Till they throw on a rap record, and they sit and they vibe
We're nothing to you, but we're the ********' s**t in their eyes
That's why we seize the moment, and try to freeze it and own it
Squeeze it and hold it, 'cus we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through our lyrics that you hear in our songs
And we can
~Sing for the Moment by Eminem