Let me tell you all a story about a kid named Fresh....
Born in East Detroit, but was raised on the West...
His single mother could barely walk sad to say and confess...
While everyone else were getting more...they had less...
Over the years...Fresh began to idolized his mother...
The way she kept a job and raised him and his brother...
...like no other...she was really a queen...
Stay out of jail and go to college was really her dream...
But...really, it seemed...
That Fresh wore a lot of BLACK but his favorite color really was GREEN...
So, when he was 8, Fresh came up with a different plan...
Let the streets raise him, and start to grow into a different man...
He tried to play his cards right, but he was dealt a different hand...
While his father was locked up, his mom got BEAT by a different man...
All he could do was watch...He the man disrespect her...
Too young to understand and too small to protect her...
He wanted to stop it but if tried he would get hurt...
Or possibly even killed! The man was big as Shaquille!...
Fresh knew exactly how he could win...
with that on his mind, got his first gun when he was 10...
All he could think of was put this all to an end...
He loaded the 38 special, opened the bedroom door and walked in...