f/ [Cashmere the Pro]

* send corrections to the typist

[Chorus]

Hold on, cause you'll never miss your own
Until that water's gone, it's wrong, it's wrong, so hold on
Hold on, cause you'll never miss your own
Until that water's gone, it's wrong, be strong and hold on

[Cashmere the Pro]:
It was morning she was brisk with her words
He apologized but all she was thinking was this is absurd
She understood he had to work but it was hittin a nerve
She hated his out of town trips, and this was the third
One in two weeks, he ain't wantin to beef
Explainin' hes the one the job picks when they need someone to speak
Hope to make up for lost time, but she's PO'ed
And somethin bout this morning's coffee seems eerily cold
"What about your family?" she repeats the exclamation
You seem to up and leave for work without the slightest hesitation
Aggravation... floatin waves, why you rockin the boat?
Baby, this is my job, what you think I'm not gonna go?
All she thought about was the weekends, and opted to blow
Felt her caution in the wind when she started to throw
Cups to the floor
She wantin to war cus she misses her home
Didn't want the wave of loneliness she gets when he gone
But she insists to be on blast but not burstin with light
It gets heavy as she yells "Who comes first in your life?"
He don't wanna be hurtin his wife
But he got a flight to catch so for now he's desertin the fight
Goes for his goodbye kiss, she turns, He takes a cold cheek while she yearns
Hates his job but loves him cus he's so sweet
But she wants him to have a night of dwellin without a goodbye
As he drives off to make Flight 11"

[Chorus]
Hold on, cause you'll never miss your own
Until that water's gone, it's wrong, it's wrong, so hold on
Hold on, cause you'll never miss your own
Until that water's gone, it's wrong, be strong and hold on

[Deacon the Villain]
It was hard times following the death of father and mother
He felt disconnect now, though is guardian was his brother
Whom he envied, cause he always seemed to be the favored sibling
The one people always assumed would create a greater living
He despised it, sick of his brother's shadow
Felt like a jester wanting to be king of his own castle
Moved from Brick City to where girls got fixed titties
Hollywood, cause there that shit's pretty
Big brother would write, call, and email
Tryin to make light of the situation, askin to be sent seashells
Little brother was strugglin, in and out about three jails
Tried to stand on his own two but he fell
Called his older brother one day, cryin' apologizing
It was a Monday, said he was sick of dramatizin
And that his Hydai, had came to the end of it's road
His money was froze, too broke to launder his clothes
Old bro was understanding though, expressing sorrow
Said he would hit the first flight out tomorrow
That they'd get a rental and pack up a carload
They'd bond on the drive back, and he'd cover the barcodes
Cause tomorrow, family ties would no longer be severed
Remaining bloodlines would be back together
Tuesday morning at Newark airport it beautiful weather
9/11 will be a day that they'll remember forever