[Intro] I don’t know who needs to hear this, but… Turn it up if you got a dad that stayed. ⸻ [Verse 1] My friend told me his dad ain’ ever been around, Said he’s grown without a father and he don’t need one now. Yeah he’s eighteen now, tryna act all tough— Sure he grew up strong, but he still deals with stuff. Called me up to talk not five minutes ago, Said his dad had just called him, but… it was just to be told That his dad’s in prison now, said he wishes he’d done better. Man, I’ve heard my friend cry— but this time? It was bitter. I can’t explain to you how hard it was to hear, As he tore himself apart for the times he wasn’t there. As if he was the problem, blaming himself too— As if he was the reason his dad left him, left his mom… left his sister too. I wanted to hug him and tell him it’s good, But he kept going, kept insisting that he was all good. Said, “I learned how to grow since twenty-oh-five and I didn’t need him then… so why the hell do I cry, man?!” ⸻ [Chorus] And it breaks me… ’Cause kids ain’t supposed to raise themselves, ain’t supposed to question if they’re worth the love they never felt. It shakes me… How a grown man still bleeds like a child, over memories he never had and years he never smiled. If you’ve ever felt alone in your own house— this part’s for you. And if your dad stayed when life got loud— turn it up… he deserves that too. ⸻ [Verse 2] Couple hours passed, man, I still replay the call, ’Cause he told me that his dad said “son, I’m sorry for it all.” But apologies don’t fix the years a boy grew up alone, They don’t fill the empty chairs at games or birthdays spent at home. He said, “Bro I ain’t mad… I’m just tired of this ache. I’m tired of pretending I don’t care when I break. I’m tired of being tough ’cause everyone expects me to be— I’m tired of being strong for a man who wasn’t strong for me.” And that hit different… ’Cause I’ve seen him fight to be a man, Seen him build his life with nothing but his two bare hands. He never asked for pity, never cried for sympathy— But tonight he said, “Why couldn’t he at least try for me?” And I swear I felt that— the weight of a son craving something he never knew, Trying to act grown while carrying a wound that still feels new. He whispered, “Maybe I just wanted him to show up one time… Just once… so I’d know what it feels like to call somebody ‘mine.’” ⸻ [Verse 3] He told me, “Man I’m grown, but I feel six again… Like I’m sitting by the door just waiting on him.” And I ain’t know what to say, ’cause how do you fix A lifetime of letdowns with a couple words and a quick “It’ll be okay”? It won’t. Not tonight. Not when he’s facing every shadow he avoided in life. He said, “Bro, I ain’t weak… I just wish he would’ve tried. Wish he would’ve stayed sober, stayed clean, stayed alive. Wish he’d been a dad instead of someone I forgive, But now he’s calling me from prison asking me how he should live?” And I could hear the pain sitting deep in his chest, Every breath like a war he was trying to suppress. So I said, “Look… You ain’t broken, you ain’t failing, you ain’t less of a man— You turned out stronger than he ever planned.” But he just laughed soft, said, “Maybe you’re right… But it still hurts knowing he ain’t never fought for my life.” And that’s the truth people hide when they talk ’bout being tough— When a dad walks out… no kid ever really grows up. ⸻ [Bridge] He said, “I don’t want his past to turn into my fate… I don’t wanna be the man who shows up too late. I don’t wanna raise a family with a heart full of scars, Wonderin’ if my kids will look at me the way I look at him—from afar.” And I told him, “Bro, you’re not him… You’re the proof that the story can bend without breakin’. You’re the proof that a fatherless boy can still grow up to be the man that his father was fakin’.” Silence on the line… Just breathin’, just pain… Then he whispered, “Maybe one day I won’t feel this way.” ⸻ [Outro] Now I don’t know who needs to hear this— but listen up, and stop crying. ’Cause you can’t change your father… but you can change the kind of man you become, the kind your own son will someday admire in his eyes. The kind he’ll look up to and say, “I love you, Dad…” And in that moment? Every wound, every ghost… all that pain from your past— it finally fades away
