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
11.08.2010
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