I Am The Bull, I'm North Carolina In a Nutshell, I Write These Stories Of My City And Let Them Tell Themselves I Place Them All On My Shoulders, I Am a Homemade Shelf I Am Made Of The Instruments In The Background, Of The Music That Bumps In My Headphones I Am The Melody That Sounds So Heavenly When Sampled And Mixed To a Hell Fire Beat I Am The Tips Of A Dancers Feet I Am The Ball Floating As Steph Steps Back And Shoots a 3 I Am A Old Soul With a Kind Heart I Am The Young Writer With a Slow Start I Am Cole's Apprentice I Am a King Tryna Find Me a Princess While Trying To Fuck Me a Mistress I Am A Descendant Of Pac With The Mindset To Stop, The Ignorant Artistry, To Wear My Heart On My Sleeve And Let It Bleed On The Stage Like I Was Shot With 12 Gage I Am The Bird Omen Preaches Bout That's Trapped In a Cage, I Am The Nigga, Who Told Y'all Niggas That All Our Niggas, Are Still Slaves, While Realizing That Tho I'm Enlightening My Niggas I'm Still Trapped In These Chains Mentally I Trap Myself My Only Release Is The Art I Am Constructed Of Low Self Esteem & Broken Hearts I Am The Last Species Left On Noah's Ark I Am The Rebel Who Follows His Own Rules, And Doesn't Let a Test Tell Him If He's Smart I Am The Kid Walking Down The Hall With His Headphones Loud I Am The Kid Who Hypes Up The Crowd But Also The One Who Shuts Them Down With His Words Of Integrity The One Who Conflicts Himself When Thinking If He Writes To Relate, To Be Great Or For The Fame, To Be a Celebrity The One Who Performs And Wonders "Will They Remember Me ?" "If I Was Gone Would They Check For Me ?" I'm The Son Of The Father Who Married The Mother And Is Still With Her 23 Years After The Family Who Came Together After The Individual 2 Kids To Make 2 Of Their Own Who Are Noticeably Different But Alike In A Few Eyes They Say We Look Alike In Our 2 Eyes I Am The One Who Shakes His Head At Niggas Who Stand In Line All Night For J's, But Won't Spend One Hour Studying To Up His Grades I Am The One Who Goes on a Tangent Then Switches It Up And Talks About The Blue Skies, I Am The One Who Types Every Letter Capital Because They Told Me Capital Letters Symbolize Importance And I Feel Like Everything I Say And Type Is Enormous The One Who Wants To Pro-Create With a Black Queen And Not Someone Who's "Foreign" Cause It Seems Every Girl Is Foreign And It's Starting To Get Boring, I Want The Mother Of My Kids To Be Every Bit Of Natural & Black Just To Teach My Kids Our History, Isn't Pretty Just Peep The Whip Lashes On Our Backs, But Our History Is Golden And Tell Them That Once They Learn Their History, He Can Make His Own And, Grow Old And One Day, Tell His Story The One Who's Bold Enough To Question God In a Christian House The One To Ask Why Can't "Our" God Wear a Blouse ? A Mix Of Lack Of Confidence And Too Much Pride The One Who Beats Himself Up And Writes As Tears Creep Through His Eyes The One Who Leaves It All On The Page I'm The One Who They Said Was "Going Through a Phase" The Same One They Call Childish Is The Same One They Praise For A's On a Test The One Who At Times Fiends For Attention And Wants To Be Left Alone The Rest The One Who Struggles With Happiness And Being Depressed The One Who Tells Others Life'll Get Better But Himself Isn't Having The Best, Of Days The Guy Who's Outspoken Until He See's, The Most Gorgeous Pair Of Eyes He's Ever Seen The One Who Praises Dancers And Admire The Ones Who Sing The One Who Can Make The Whole Crowd Laugh Then Turn Around, Get On Stage And Make The White Portion Mad They See Me After, Shake My Hand And Tell Me It Was Great, Then Get In Their Car And Express Their Disgust And Hate Cause They Hate a Young Nigga Who Speaks His Mind They Hate a Black Man Who Spends His Time, Educating Himself And His Kind Well I Guess I'm The Hated, The Negated And Future Sedated The One Who Pictures Himself Being Killed Before He Sniffs The Greatness The One Who Gives You His Life In These Lines The Nigga Who's Life Is Crumbling But'll Smile And Say He's Fine The One Who Hates The Word Nigga But'll Use It Twice In a Sentence The One Who Listens To Music And Shakes His Head Thinking "I Know These Niggas Know, It's More To Life Than Pussy, And Bread" The One Who Struggles With Self Identification From Time To Time, The One Who Constantly Chooses Between Hurting People With The Truth Or Comforting Them With Lies The One Who Asks, "Is Black Really Beautiful ? Or Would I Be Better Off White ? I Know The Berry Is Sweeter When Blacker, But If I Were White, Would I Have a Better Life ?" I Am Made From Every Single Mother, To Every Dead Beat Dad From Every Privileged White Teen To The Black Mother Of Her Deceased Black Son Who's Sad From Every African American, Muslim, Jew, And Hispanic Who's Been Slandered, To Every Capitalistic White Man Who Made It Standard From Every Homeless Man Who Lives On The Street, To Every Hungry Nigga With Nothing To Eat From Every Person With a Bed Time And a Good Night's Sleep, To Every Insomniac, Who's Given Up On Counting Sheep From Every Sell Out In The World To Every Protesting Young Black Teen From Every Young Black Prince, To Every Young Black Queen, From Every Care Free Open Mind, To Every Miserable, Brainwashed, Christian From Every Bigot, To Every Slave From Every Birth, To The Grave, From Every T.V. Playing That Police Brutality Murder Again, To Every Gang Related Shooting Murdering Our Own, Killing Our Own Skin, From Every Joyous Person Who Cares About Their Health, To The Suicidal Chick Who's Cutting Herself From Every Happy Poor Man, To Every Miserable Man With Good Wealth I Am a Poet At Heart, And With This Pen I Give You Myself...
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