the answer

Am I this kid raised in pandemonium. Thrown into the blue flame of wealth. Don’t touch or you will get burned they said. Well my hand goes in. Pulling it away unscathed. The rebuttal is gasp and gasp … impossible they say. Now hear comes the emasculation. Cut your hair. Self control. Rich girls don’t marry poor boys you know. Blah blah blah. But they can’t stop Allah. My fate has been sealed… Tré Lewis is born. Born he is in a place that wonders how can this be. Who is he? This mystery. A descendant of rum runners he has no class. They didn’t have that same energy for the Kennedy’s. Cutthroat I may be but so was they and that’s how they rose from the concert with out a scratch on thee. All I was taught was to crush my enemy’s.