HIP HOP PERSONIFIED

Deep Breathing,Streets screaming

If you know what it held
than you know how he felt
cause' the hand he was dealt
made him feel pain that he felt
and the translation was stealth
didn't see it coming the transformation
It happened so fast so fast too fast
too fast and it was painful becuase
he couldn't understand himself for him
what he wanted to be his soul was in
chains cause' he was feeling pain
was aching for things things of
the world anaerobic bacteria yes
non-living things it was a hidden agenda
wanted to roll with spenders and pollute
the beggars
thought it was cool to solicitate with vendors
they were cold-hearted beings not meant
for the world
like I said the crooks had cruel criterion
everyday was a test a beleif in flesh led to
death whats left is meth and cocaine
amongst that crack left from corners
that gave out drug daps and money like it was
fauceted through taps
everyday drank and everybody drowned
when there was a drought sufferers were lost
but never found several feet in the ground,
their feet were shackled
nailed to firey eternities
like stigmata replaced by the streets
they hurt so do you
with mushy food and bad diets you might as well
eat fried everything
even your gray matter is burnt out
your body is wahed up and lifes a beach at first
than you see your potential wash up than your not shore
its not all its cracked up to be
I'm trying to use my energy
thats why my pens with me
I've arrived I'm not a statistic
I could be somewhere in cold places
where tough guys can't survive because
"tough guys" give screwfaces and scumbags and murderers
use sharp dental tools to give long distance telephones
that may start beyond a brother brow
he was in gods image once beautiful and brown
with a smile that could light up the ocean floor
now he full of grimaces, fast thoughts,paranoia and false witnesses
he's a muslim with a big brother named Bubba and will
be in there longer because of a fella named Dubya
and his conscience half-way through his sentence has awoken
out of its slumber
come out of it is reality and landed back to sanity
but wait
his craftiness and player mentality went like symbiosis
and attached itself to tragedy
and all his past agressions moved like a caravan
this nomadic fad obsessed bogeyman
home is not recognized so instead of working for currency
he's plotting currently for revisitation and waiting for smarter ways
to slip past and make wiser decisions
Never get caught if your not cheating your not trying
if your out dying and fighting you failed yourself
and his tale is grim realization of failure
hearts black as coal
skin brown as earth he stepped on
when he wanted clientel that served him well and did him well
for a short time but trife
last for eons and so did the consequences because
the reasons for his undoing was now in perspective
coughing up blood it just...
went in his back came out his juggular now he didnt have to have
lead poisining for bullets to live and be stuck in him
its because of him that the outcome is so numb and so meaningless
streets will scream with this and the game has creeps with it
and its so grainy and painful thats the feeling of regret it gave
forever a slave to mentality that gave him a ghetto outlook
even kris-kross would see his backwards thinking
ause' all the liquor and the chemicals left his brain shrinking
and the parylization made it difficult
for blinking but more difficult for breathing
he should have rethought the path of his life
now he gas some quality time to do mental teething but
hes a small planet distant in the universe trying to get
off the teet of the Milky Way and you know what?
He JUST MIGHT BE OKAY?