urban
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As time flew and flew
And his home was consumed by mankind's greed
He had no choice but to become them
His appetite altering
His work feeding him
As time flew and flew
And his home was consumed by mankind's greed
He had no choice but to become them
His appetite altering
His work feeding him
Legend is his species
Yet he sleeps for not being slayed
Deep below, below earthen dirt
Treaded on years after days
Sound a-sleeping and sound silent,
But vibrations have been felt
The most beautiful blue sky comes after a day of rain,
The most beautiful art comes from a place of pain,
Some of the wisest people we claim to be insane,
These worldly people are evil, ice reigns in their veins,
Everyday that I awake I thank the creator for the day then I brush my teeth with toothpaste and wash my face.
As I pray for my sake Lord my soul is yours to keep, guide me through this day and keep me safe like a sheep
Industrial decay
Left the workers in dismay.
Jobs lost, life costs.
The buildings are in ruin
Yet the teenagers pursue in
The creative inspiration
This nation chases them away from.
Every time I touch the mirror see myself in every morning a tear slips way out the corner of my eyes. It's not the same as it used to be.
•3 am on a wednesday. In front of her a bottle of Hennessy , a blunt , paper and pen. Her thoughts in her lost little head of her are expressed on that paper.
Do you think that
People who go to prison
For
Fifty and sixty years
Are they wishing they had
Freedom
While they're holding on to tears
I remember coming of age in a pivotal time, when young black boys was trying to make a penny off their rhymes. Young poets was tryna get paid, Beyonce had girls sipping lemonade. Days passed, days came, God got it pouring purple rain.
The trees--they quiver with life.Yes, all around me,They shake with strife.Their bones, bare of bark,They're stark white cast in dark.Sister stars shoot to earth,Little pricks of light plunging-
I heard that all the animals are going back to Africa. That my family is going back to the south we're going back to Georgia and that white people are now getting looked down on for saying the N word.
If you are Caucasian, Asian, or of Middle Eastern persuasion
everyone wants to be black for the occasion
You wear saggy jeans and you come off like this
Do you really know what its like to be black and dissed
I go to sleep waiting to dream
To get away from life everything seen
Fighting each other they love what they see
That's what they want beg and bleed for some feed
Oh well I'll just start slanging some weed
I spoted a New York liscense plate hanging from your chest
as you parade the streets, from one boro to next.
The best artists around can't wait till' you come to town
It is dark and dreary.
The sun never comes out.
I feel so wet and sticky.
Why won't this mud come out?
I know not what it is like,
to even know how to ride a bike.
I'm stuck in this house,
Feeding off dump sitesGovernment preaching about human rightsThe minds hunger now difficult to fightThe authority’s pledge I’ve learnt to reciteInsanity, poverty for eternity
CLIPGUNLOCKBANGGuns speak and talk slang, and you aint got to be able to aim to speak they’re language. Most who use 'em can't spell and over there is where they hangman.
Their Eyes are on the Door (The Gay Scene)
Their eyes were on the door of clubs like Casablanca, where they wait to judge.
They clutter together like leaves stuck in a drain, old ways refusing to budge.
to cease to desist
to stop the crimes
to help the fighting youth
to unveil the bride Truth and stop her point from becoming moot
that
is
our
calling
Harsh and cold
Is the shattered concrete
Click clicking beneath the feet
Of jostled ignorance
Heavily breathing
Pant panting anxiety
Beneath these metal ghosts
The air smothered in smog
The birds don't sing like they used to.
Then again, it's not surprising,
must have the Memphis blues.
The echoing screams in the streets
Children crying in the background
Saluzcion's Never been the type to write my name on a ballot and cast a vote
Placing my goals and aspirations on the next man's hope; nope
Wasting time slow; going through procrastination,
I rather be thought a fool then open my mouth and remove all doubt; speaking on things I know nothing about or live through
But the sad truth is so vague
Like body ash in a cigarette ash tray, pause,
As I sit back and reclined
Enjoying a cubano and glass of wine
I cant help but think of the modern times; where ladies are hard to find, and all I see is dames and dymes
I'm either gonna rise above poverty or define my existence
A poetic vision, encrypted with a hustler's ambition,
listen dying for what a icon stands for ain't the mission
Isolation and depression
Go hand-in-hand
When you’re too far away
from where you should stand.
I was concieved as nothing less than a miracleFrom 3-7 was too damn hysterical8-12 i was growing up, afriad to be minimalSo by 13 I became an infamous criminalFrom 14-16, i paid my does, so i thought; super imbecil
A few years ago, I had to make a decision
Remain in the hood and risk going to prison
Continue to allow the evil to cloud my vision
Or pick up a pen and become a musician
Ever lyric, every bar, became my ammunition
It's not that I wanna screw it up, I just so happen to be good at itIt's not as if I don't wanna quit, but unfortunately for me I'm like my father another addict.
Peeling scales in rosetta geometry down the rail
Slick tile bearings, cigarette stained
Haughty men (women too) locked in iron stride
Shoulder brash against shoulder
Stench one way, perfume another
EVEN WHEN I FREE-FALL YOU WILL NEVER SEE ME SWEAT. THROUGH MY DOWNFALL, I NEVER LOST RESPECT. I AIN'T COMPLAINING, I'M MAINTAINING THAT CONSIGLIARE MENTALITY THESE OTHER CATS AIN'T IN.
There's a hen outside my window,
No, seriously:
A hen.
Four in fact, 'cause I'm a farmer
In the suburbs. Sound strange?
You bet,
I'm told I'm strange every day.
That's cool.
I'm used to it, but
