Street
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I wanted to read but my mind was at work
Listing all of the things it had seen, felt, and heard
There were days void of hope, there were nights spent in tears
Over all my love, dope, had costed me through the years
We are the watchmen of street
We are the unpopular populace
We are like a popular song
that never graces the ear;
a corpse flower to you
While you have a sound sleep
They knew they was going to kill him. But how they did him was a shame. They made him choose between a 45 to the heart. Or a 9 to the brain. He said he didn't tell I guess they wasn't feelin him.
They spend the block in 3 black Apollis. And 2 all black bombed-out minivans. Caught up with them niggers and left their bodies riddle with holes the size of soda cans. Play boy was caught up in his emotions all high up off that lean.
You ever walk down the street,
and find it empty?
The sidewalks barren,
with no one,
nothing in sight.
The lights are dim,
as if knowing
today is nothing special.
Pink anemones
Black hearts shamelessly openn sleepy love
Here, behind the window
There where princes escape well
Finding shelter in the rain drain
We neither hide nor share
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.
I cant even focus all i hear is people talk locust.They think i´m mean, but they don't know a thing that i mean.So let me laze you up, while you talking bout blazing up.
Their eyes trace my skin
Like fingers on a page.
Their words find my ear
With laughter coarse as sandpaper.
The whistles echo
In the din of the street,
And although I am surrounded
Peddling fast down that black slate,
circling that busy cul-de-sac.
I peddle faster.
That snowy dog stares at me
through the silver gate next door-
one blue one green.
I peddle faster.
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
Woke up in a dream under asphalt treessoaked in the sap of the sweltering citywearing these old rat rags and sneering at the concreteGreyscale mindset stitched into my sleeve
Floating
Hovering above where I want to be
Reality isn't about keeping calm
or carrying on
Reality is fog in a forest
Orange trees swallowed whole
Unaware of what is said or heard
Corporate media dominating the airwaves
It's a time for change
Washington D.C. no longer representing me
It's all a plutonomy
Infantry of a corner clique's imagery
Imitates actual industry.
Instead it’s often in-the-street,
Marketing products with a PRE-
Caution, 'cause cops will cripple thee
Business. They call it criminally
湾岸や
走り屋乗ってる
排気ガス
Wangan ya
Hashiriya notteru
Haiki gasu
On the bayshore route
Street racers are out driving
Exhaust gas in air
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.
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.
