The Man with the Black Mustache Words burn worse than bullets Any heat could ever push So I kept my mouth shut Smoking j's to blow away That painful paragraph My heart was aching to say I started drinking forties Swallowed up all my regrets Rapping about bullshit To avoid my deepest test The man with the mustache Smacking Mom across the face Until he ran out of breath Ripping her clothes Just for some sex A struggle so deep I cry blood when I weep Mom loved us to death Even with a pistol to her head When I sleep he's right there He haunts my nightmares I wonder why he dealt drugs I get higher from hugs But sometimes question love Then ask God up above Why every day it gets harder And should I even bother To call the man with the black mustache My father -Brian Quezada