So much emothin running through his veins.
Been through some hard times, now number 1 he reins.
Dad left him in the ghetto with his mother young and poor,
An angel with a soul of fire knowing he would soar.
Although he's known as "the answer," he would ask himself "why?"
All that came to mind was keep your head up to the sky.
Back then the sky was raining, no sunshine seen ahead.
Each night he'd lay behind hard bars crying on his bed.
Then he saw a rainbow and found his pot of gold.
Although the stormy clouds were gone, those days were still quite cold.
They said he was to skinny, called him "jailbird" when he played.
That rookie shut them up by all the points that he soon made.
This boy had a clear dream; to have a better life.
This shows that dreams come true, cuz' now he's rich and has a wife.
Anger, hurt, sorrow, pain, the deep intensity of his game.
"A.I." 76ers, number 3; that's the player we all want to be!
But through those eyes of victory; feeling pure joy,
Can you look through them and see him as a boy?
Right, exactly, don't judge unless you know.
Eyes of envy you're to shallow, hate's as deep as you will go.
Though after all he's been through, his heart will always be the same;
That fire of determination burning slow inside his veins.

by Adrienne Smith
Dedicated to Allen Iverson a.k.a. "A.I." a.k.a. "The Answer" of the Philidelphia 76ers basketball team