Put my hand out and you hold me like a flower
Black rose
Speaking words I’ve been longing to hear, for you
Put my hand out and you hold me like a flower
Black rose
Speaking words I’ve been longing to hear, for you
Black rose

She could have been anything she wanted to be
Black rose, black rose, got addicted to these streets
Dedicated to the girls that grew up too early
13 going on 30, no direction, promiscuous, no protection
Babies raising babies, generation x
Blame it on the fathers who weren’t there for their daughters
… she was a queen cause nobody never told her
Look just like her daddy, hate up her mother
She reminded of the pain that he caused before he left her
This very pain handed down to the next one
Now she got a granddaughter soaking up the lessons
Single black mothers is the real soldiers
That’s why I ain’t giving up on my black roses
Breaking the chains I’m trying to be the best father
Little Cecilia, she know her daddy loves her dearly, my black rose

Put my hand out and you hold me like a flower
Black rose
Speaking words I’ve been longing to hear, for you
Black rose

Started out telling me baby don’t take no wood nickels
And always keep your chin up, no matter what up
Just me and her, plus big bro,
My earliest memories was Brooklyn 12 flow
Slum of the slums, I was young I cherished this
So when she moved to Sacramento… I hated it
Not even knowing it was cause of me [bad word] …13, I was in the streets
And she has seen that movie already
…that [bad word] that made me already
So with nothing but a job and the babies
She left the only home she know lately to save me
Ain’t no telling where I’d be now
Probably a felon or an addict, … look at you see now
You made me what I am today,
I finally got a chance to say, you’re my black rose

Put my hand out and you hold me like a flower
Black rose
Speaking words I’ve been longing to hear, for you
Black rose

Hey look, I don’t need but I gotta have
And it’s up to me, not Obama’s [bad word] My … is 13, it seems like yesterday me and her mama started flirting
Look at how fast time passes may 8 ‘98 that’s my favorite day
… I ain’t around, I miss her
When I see is … I don’t … that’s just how we rock
…just like me, but only less friendly, that’s my baby
Sick of baby, get them baby, you the [bad word]  daddy little baby
I ain’t gotta say much she already know
She got … already I just let her go
…even though she knows I’m gonna tell her right now
You’re my black rose

Put my hand out and you hold me like a flower
Black rose
Speaking words I’ve been longing to hear, for you
Black rose.