Doing The Most

Doing The Most

Brutha could remember the first day they met. Sistah’s face would light up, on sight. He was sure her panties had gotten wet. Without seeing him she could feel his presents, the magnetic pull the psychic connection; pulling her towards his direction. She had this sparkle in her eyes each and everytime they spoke. Honey mastered and memorized his walk and enjoyed his slick and smooth talk. But then it all stopped. (What Happened?)

When he entered the room it used to be all smiles.
Now almost instantly it’s more frowns. (Don’t let the plantation get you down, babes). They need each other. Trust me when I tell you.

When he look into her eyes he could see and feel the pain sistah tried to hide. Some days she’s up seesaw of emotions now she’s down. When you don’t have anything you take what you can get. Brutha has to respect her decision of distance so he’d guess.

Listen sweetie Brutha wasn’t trying to be your man.
Not even. Not hardly, cause he knew, Sistah already had one of those. He’s sure sistah even had a boyfriend, I suppose. He wasn’t tryin to be that either, oh hell no cause after all, she already had one of those.

(Chorus)
The one thing money can’t buy is more time.
No cigars, no cigarettes, just a few regrets.
No loud in awhile and it all was just a bet.
Memories of how it use to be. The truth or the lie at its best. The pressure of the cause and its effect to make a diamond he has to respect. (As he pushes up his specs).

How her face would light up when Brutha entered the room. Now when Sistah sees him her expression read nothing but gloom. He’s not trying to be what she already had. He was simply trying to be “The Light”, in her eyes, on top of her Christmas tree and in her life. Brutha just wanted to bring Sistah “Joy”, nothing less, nothing less, I guess he’s just doing the most, but she ain’t done shyt.

(Repeat Chorus)

She asked Brutha his age and like a fool he told her the god honest truth. In her mind she made him younger and younger 43 then 34. He didn’t even try to hit nor did he try to score. 7 hours on the phone one day. 0 hours the next no calls, no text. Just excuses. So Brutha just got use to it… That’s why some men lie to women. All due to life and the unknown circumstances, enough respect.

Friends should talk or what are friends for?
Another cute face in Publix super store. So he bows his head and prays for her, her son and her daughter.
Cause she can’t see all of the man whom stands before her.
Sistah don’t want a man cause her feet stuck in the sand.
Trust me babes I think Brutha really understand.

(Chorus)
The one thing money can’t buy is more time.
No cigars, no cigarettes, just a few regrets.
No loud in awhile and it all was just a bet.
Memories of how it use to be the truth or the lie at its best. The pressure of the cause and its effect to make a diamond As he pushes up his specs (He has to respect).

How her face would light up when Brutha entered the room. Now when Sistah sees him her expression read nothing but gloom. He’s not trying to be what she already had. He was simply trying to be “The Light”, in her eyes, on top of her Christmas tree and in her life. Brutha just wanted to bring Sistah “Joy”, nothing less, nothing less, I guess he’s just doing the most, but she ain’t done shyt.

(Repeat Chorus)

Brutha just tryin to be Sistah’s friend and possibly be her best… I think that was the plan. Brutha hope one day sistah would understand and clearly see the man, which stands before her. Maybe she’ll find it in her heart to return the call. Hopefully she’ll come back or open the door. Let him in and let this new life together begin. Brutha will alway be there for you. He’s waiting and Brutha misses his baby.

Brutha’s not like “Him”. Baby he’s something much more…
Everyone gravitates around her, the young, the old and the strange. In Harlem we don’t chase’em we just replace’em, but He’s chasin cause you got his heart racin. She puts him in the mind of his mother. He wants her for himself.

One should never have to pay the price for the mistakes made by the last man; the person that crushed her heart.

“Doing Da Most” cause your so worth it even though she ain’t done shyt.

Harlem,

Heaven is at the foot of Mother…