Preposterous monstrosity
From the depths of my past
Fried chicken capitalism conspiracy
Sacrifices resurrects the ghosts
Of ancestors who been freestyling with your fate
Feeling like the air is speaking right to you
Listen closely
Learn to fight fight to learn
Let the world rotate burn truth be sold
From what you can remember
Couldn’t afford the price
After worthily spending any amount of saving
Down to the pocket lint and the expired mint
That won’t refreshen the lesson far from
Planned the power within hands
Could relocate mountains right next to the projects
Where the experiment with closed spaces
Has made you reexamine the basis of your philosophy
Impossible how the battle for your conscience
Is between greedy angels and saintly demons
Breathing fire when you reject your hidden desires
You have yet to discover an antidote
That will cure your insatiatable hunger
Where are you running to so fast in place
When the finish line keep going further away
Your epiphany has surcharges
That will eventually be due before activating your account
Without a doubt your inspiration will fly south
Before your evidence heads north
Feeling back on the block
Though on the otherside of town
Whatchu talking about when there is no substance
Controlling the message
Before delivering the audience
You could rewind the replay
Won’t find what you left behind
Your definition been highly fuzzy
With only guesstimates
Of the guidelines to the ghetto
Whoever stands on the corner
Should have a fitted dunce cap
With engraved stitching showing your nickname
Your spit game only brings you nearer to the flame
Where your knowledge is easily disposable
Compose yourself with beautiful conduct
Whereas your abstract understanding
Has developed into concrete actions
That have deadly consequences that may revive
Redialed your regressions back to session
Where your freedom of speech equals freedom to dream
Often scheming instead of teaming
Where you so interested in seeming
not becoming fully human
Sincere integrity with severe levity
perhaps now is not the occasion for the fronting
if you care so much for the progression and elevation
please show me something
11.08.2010
asi
Don’t nothing change just another year
Snaxx Playlist
Trying to add at least half
Go up in that mafucka and take whatever I want
Can’t shake the answer
If I did that I die with that cancer
Just another poison prescribed
Analyzed the dosage just hanging on to survive
Walk with the kitten’s addiction
As the mirror desk forces you
To examine the yearbook
Add up the change
How much of the planned revolution remains
Found poetry like moving the pieces along 64 squares
Of a chessboard how the bedroom switches with no sheets
Origins of gansta rap from mean streets
Where the beast hunt with hungry teeth
Though the inspiration be brief
Continuously seek minutes to delay satisfaction
The reaction has shaped
By the grouch right next to the dusty bandera bandana
To stunt anyways possible
In a land which seeks to keep you not breathing
In a hospital land vertical to regain senses
The spirit of the benches
Mind in trenches with body in state of flux
In seconds ticking spending bucks
On what would bring closer to heavenly oasis
All praises due don’t get it confused
Si sale bien llamame en la manana
Blink for resurrection of tomorrow
Pausa para la causa to purge
To the porcelain god
Looking at the Diablo flag around ankles
For freedom to get through the night
When the stars wish upon you
To motivate creating
Somehow someway to make it out
The hood one day
Pray to power in the final hour
No flowers in the garden
Like the earth stomach starving
Mobbing with heart throbbing
Sobbing on the page
Like words cry Bronx River
To flow into higher consciousness
Critical minded you been finding
Pieces of puzzle scattered
Until you unable to add up the data
Lines you outta but connect the dots
To scribble in the block
Love in the location
Where respect marks the low spot
Lessons learned with every step
Up and down the lane
Big parks where the ghosts
Of retired jerseys claimed
Hood glory and fame
Buncha doing nothing expecting something
Rubbing the fur the wrong way producing static
Shock to the system
When the volume too loud
Can hardly hear the lyrics
Ironically stating how much we getting it
When even the breeze feels hollow
Next day more of the same
Feet so long in that place
Sprouted roots gathered moss
Brush under doo rags to keep it wavy
But what would you find if you floss
Snaxx Playlist
Trying to add at least half
Go up in that mafucka and take whatever I want
Can’t shake the answer
If I did that I die with that cancer
Just another poison prescribed
Analyzed the dosage just hanging on to survive
Walk with the kitten’s addiction
As the mirror desk forces you
To examine the yearbook
Add up the change
How much of the planned revolution remains
Found poetry like moving the pieces along 64 squares
Of a chessboard how the bedroom switches with no sheets
Origins of gansta rap from mean streets
Where the beast hunt with hungry teeth
Though the inspiration be brief
Continuously seek minutes to delay satisfaction
The reaction has shaped
By the grouch right next to the dusty bandera bandana
To stunt anyways possible
In a land which seeks to keep you not breathing
In a hospital land vertical to regain senses
The spirit of the benches
Mind in trenches with body in state of flux
In seconds ticking spending bucks
On what would bring closer to heavenly oasis
All praises due don’t get it confused
Si sale bien llamame en la manana
Blink for resurrection of tomorrow
Pausa para la causa to purge
To the porcelain god
Looking at the Diablo flag around ankles
For freedom to get through the night
When the stars wish upon you
To motivate creating
Somehow someway to make it out
The hood one day
Pray to power in the final hour
No flowers in the garden
Like the earth stomach starving
Mobbing with heart throbbing
Sobbing on the page
Like words cry Bronx River
To flow into higher consciousness
Critical minded you been finding
Pieces of puzzle scattered
Until you unable to add up the data
Lines you outta but connect the dots
To scribble in the block
Love in the location
Where respect marks the low spot
Lessons learned with every step
Up and down the lane
Big parks where the ghosts
Of retired jerseys claimed
Hood glory and fame
Buncha doing nothing expecting something
Rubbing the fur the wrong way producing static
Shock to the system
When the volume too loud
Can hardly hear the lyrics
Ironically stating how much we getting it
When even the breeze feels hollow
Next day more of the same
Feet so long in that place
Sprouted roots gathered moss
Brush under doo rags to keep it wavy
But what would you find if you floss
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