i see that's how the game is, you leave with what you came with
so i grab the bank and be up out once I get famous/
before you had dough how many hoes gave up the anus
lookin for hope but all you find is mental anguish/
enuff to make ya brain twist...wonder where the dank is
they tell you rap is glorious,i guess that's what a prank is/
i was cursed with a gift to script a verse
too strong for suicide but still think that livins worse/
then death, breaths a commodity... an oddity
cus obviously the ghetto's built to kill our little prodigies/
it takes a child to raise a village, .cus all this hopelessness
stems from all the dope we sniff, a childs born i hope he lives/
maybe he can end the problems that we livin with
curropted souls and minds, 11 years he holds his innocence/
and when it's gone no more songs...no more ray of light
even-the-day-is-filled-with-monsters... of course we're scared at night/
i tip my hat to the people that have dared to fight
y'all revolutionaries will be the ones to prepare the flight/
i write poems, cus my minds gone
soul and my brain won't let bygones be bygones/
i'm gettin stabbed and feelin the pain like paper that we write on
not the sharpest tool in the addict and that no fucking lights on/
but i'm a continue to rock it wayyyy upppp outtta the socket..till the mics gone
dustin haters off with the left, and signin an autograph with my right arm/
.
and this is a poem...I write shit ill with the POETRY
my pen listens to problems without SCOLDIN ME/
my words manifest all the things that i've held
black ink and white paper gave a way to rebel/
this is a replay... of life and god's my dj
go the college of struggle, sheesh harvards easy/
my heart is gettin taxxed...it's time for repay
worse comes to worse I'll just sell my soul on ebay/
so i grab the bank and be up out once I get famous/
before you had dough how many hoes gave up the anus
lookin for hope but all you find is mental anguish/
enuff to make ya brain twist...wonder where the dank is
they tell you rap is glorious,i guess that's what a prank is/
i was cursed with a gift to script a verse
too strong for suicide but still think that livins worse/
then death, breaths a commodity... an oddity
cus obviously the ghetto's built to kill our little prodigies/
it takes a child to raise a village, .cus all this hopelessness
stems from all the dope we sniff, a childs born i hope he lives/
maybe he can end the problems that we livin with
curropted souls and minds, 11 years he holds his innocence/
and when it's gone no more songs...no more ray of light
even-the-day-is-filled-with-monsters... of course we're scared at night/
i tip my hat to the people that have dared to fight
y'all revolutionaries will be the ones to prepare the flight/
i write poems, cus my minds gone
soul and my brain won't let bygones be bygones/
i'm gettin stabbed and feelin the pain like paper that we write on
not the sharpest tool in the addict and that no fucking lights on/
but i'm a continue to rock it wayyyy upppp outtta the socket..till the mics gone
dustin haters off with the left, and signin an autograph with my right arm/
.
and this is a poem...I write shit ill with the POETRY
my pen listens to problems without SCOLDIN ME/
my words manifest all the things that i've held
black ink and white paper gave a way to rebel/
this is a replay... of life and god's my dj
go the college of struggle, sheesh harvards easy/
my heart is gettin taxxed...it's time for repay
worse comes to worse I'll just sell my soul on ebay/