His purpose was not punctuality
Wore clothes three sizes too big
So they could be handed down
Dragged himself to class
Like the empty bookbag about to fall
Flat with an empty binder
Sancocho method of notetaking
Mezcla in mind
Wants everything he feels he is owed
In the future to drop from the sky
Tomorrow so that life could be easy
Without having to do work
School is just sucking
Away time I could be asleep
An even brighter idea to nod off
In the closet baba coming from
A mouth used for talking shit
As opposed to building nations
Borinken breaks its back
Everytime you get left behind
The flag flies a lil lower when you fail
Coquis stop cantando when you quit
When El Cantante sang Mi Gente
He really mean ustedes
Realize our liberty is tied
To your independent spirit
But when you feel hopeless
It is a creature of your own design
The patent is pending on you ending the pain
Your brain is your greatest natural resource
But intelligence is in short supply
Demand on dumbshit could overflow
The dow jones with shocking bondage
Chained to the corner claimed you were committed
But the ghetto’s grown on you
Like a street sign in the middle of your forehead
The sidewalk traces your steps
For guidance you growl at the gutter
Take every bit of hood wisdom uttered
To certify your authentic credentials are fitted
In the image of funnyhouse mirrors
With distorted reflections on your visions of perfection
Knowledge of self greatest weapon
Against self deception
When you are slipping
You are stuck on stupid
Your destiny gets destroyed
By decibels of ignorance screaming
I don’t give a fuck
The sky whispered
God bless
Good luck
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