The fight for my liberation was won by poetic justice, because my words are verbs, so addictive and full of substance. Like those consumed by those whom choose to abuse instead of buying food. The def, dumb, and blind think I’m rude and can’t see that my attitude came with these views.
So with genuine love I peer down from above. These eyes have seen all. The good, the bad, the ugly weak links who made the whole team fall.
Lips locked like safes full of stock. I am delicate with my rhetoric. Hunger games inherited from the veterans caused hunger pains inspiring youthful negligence.
What’s up Doc? How you like your own medicine? Communities overwhelmed with grief and suffering now everybody's on medicine. Stealing prescriptions, dealing prescriptions, making a killing off filling prescriptions.
The devil wears prada, I done been to hell and back forever burned and charred by those once held close to my heart who left me scarred.
Hanging on by threads in a field of dreams like modern day scare crows. In this modern day jim crow please. Look out for the railroads. Go! Picking up momentum like the little engine that could. Turnt a bad situation good and made it out the hood.
Where liquor stores decorate every corner and little kids are forced to play grown ups.
Where grass is a thing of the past and alley cats fight for their lives over trash.
Like my pen is white-out I’m writing my wrongs, illustrating my life in poems and songs.
Tasting hood success is bitter and sweet. Have you ever walked in designer shoes where drug paraphernalia litters the streets.
I was indicated by someone I trusted. Thank God for pen and paper, I was vindicated by poetic justice.