Local Clothing Designer's art goes from 'Lame" to Fame by Brendan Whitt (Courtesy of Call & Post Cleveland)

'Papers' from 'When the Crows Come Home'

When the crows come home
We get high my nigga

When the crows come home
We drink dark French liquor

When the crows come home
It’s like fam got back together

When the crows come home
My heart feels better

When the crwos come home home
Lil niggas got they pops

When the crows come home
We need a red carpet for the block

'Contraband' from 'When the Crows Come Home'

Contraband got him shoes
Contraband stashed in his sock
Contraband paid his momma rent
And got his little brother an XBOX

Contraband bought diapers
Contraband cause fights
Contraband got you a new whip
And keep you up at night

Contraband got you a quick buck
Contraband was the plan
Contraband ain’t no way to live
And it didn’t last

'Gotta Do Better' from 'When the Crows Come Home'

You shouldn't yell" free my nigga"
Instead we should be promotin "teach my nigga"
Take yo son hand
And not a key my nigga
Now we wearin orange jumpsuits
Cause the lick was sweet my nigga
I understand the man don't like us niggas
But why we gotta keep addin to the problem
Cause then we gon keep bein niggas

'Rappers' from 'When the Crows Come Home'

Look at these rich pampered niggas
They all claim to be the realest
You wouldn’t be authentic
Even if the US Mint made ya
Counterfeit thugs got famous
Cause Atlantic or Def Jam pay ya
Like Africans sellin Gucci
Y’all just a bunch of fakers
And Capitol just want capital
Cause once that cell or casket closed
That’s when ya album chart and go gold

'When The Hens Roost' from 'When the Crows Come Home'

The sun ain’t hit the top yet
And the birds out chirpin’
Mr. Farmer just finished his joe
Time to get workin

Had a steer pullin a plow
And the dog herdin his sheep
Mr. Farmer went to the coop
And couldn’t believe what he didn’t see

Not a hen was there
And they hadn’t laid any eggs
“I done lost to a goddamn coyote”
Then an idea popped into his head

If they ain’t in the coop layin
Or walkin around outside
They probably sittin somewhere talkin
Guess I’ll give them some time

'Untitled 3' from 'If I Wrote a Hip-Hop Album'

Can we put the guns down
Put a L in the air
Its like every other week
All a young nigga hear
RIP my nigga
Another black male dead
And it hurt me soul
Make me wanna drop a tear
Another son aint here
Another brother gunned down
Can we put the guns down
I don’t who next
But I hope it aint me
Hope it aint my nigga
Hope it aint my fam
So what you ‘sposed to do
When the streets so cold
You need heat by ya belt
Like a nigga name Pacino
Whats the motive anyway
Mucho Dinero
But the means aint worth it
So I beg and I plead
Can we put the guns down
No more black mothers cryin’
Lil bros grow up mad
Cause he lost his brother, closest thing to his dad
It just make me so sad
Can we please put em down
Just put the guns down