Witness her fitness where she prays, these days is phased, trying to coat yourself with glaze, clear the haze with rays, from the sun, cause don't no truer person cope with hopes, that you rope all in your life, the sheer scope is wrote, in the quotes, of many journals with their serious missions, value giving, so that's a vision to help all of who's missing, an inner self, cause they dealt with the critics that melt, all that they felt, so the belts choke the voice from one's self, so they can't speak, and they're weak, but you came with your's, so after wars, open doors heal those fire born sores, so that's a score, cause the more that we make it through storms, we feel reborn, after feeling torn from scorns of thorns.

I cannot pay a man's dues,
But I can be in his shoes.
I cannot sing him the blues unless he's hurt feeling bruised.
May not completely be true,
but this will probably make him confused.
I may just make him amused,
but I can always be in his shoes.

When the bandit no more stands it, he will hand it, depart and transit, when I plan it, I will scan it, fail and then can it, no one's demanded to be stranded, banded in scamming, we just commanded our remnants to fuse and man it, now screaming "**** it!", I am rammed to depend on T.A.N.F, how can I stand if I am planted in help that's jammed in, a different planet, now I'm lost, poor and slanted, just like the bandit who was stranded, now I must hand it.

What did you say? A collapse is coming? Try to tell me something else new, I knew this was true, so tear your *** shoo, I got no time for feeling blue, cause what they done to me, I'm used to, same will be done to you, they didn't listen when I spit out facts, they shut me up cause I'm black, so **** them *******, I ain't going back, so when they get hacked, act like it was not a surprise, them cowards die, see the ******* ***** in they eyes, while in disguise, play it off like it was just a relapse, I warned them sorry suckas, **** em!, now watch em collapse.

21st century, I can't salute, while ******* steady going down, I pray and give a tribute, got a problem with my ways ***** gon and shoot!, too many problems that we face I don't mind taking the boot, half our troops feel the same, we cry for ones who've fallen, disaster waiting for the one's who thinking they steady balling, **** the government!, rebel against takers who stalling, only got one place to go when I hear the Lord calling, 9/11 just repeat itself in these final years, rest in peace to the soldiers who fought and all of my peers, after seeing so much death, I can't no longer have fears, only visions of the heaven's as I hold in my tears.

Is it the man in me or the song she sings that makes me so proud?

Is it the mind of me? Her melody, that makes the sky have no clouds?

I guess it's her, she's beautiful, she's golden like a trophy.

Anyone who heard her voice would cheer, I'm glad she really knows me.

When the world is stuck and worn out and there's nothing left to do,
her voice will shed some light on us bringing joy to me and you.

I never hate but congratulate, her voice sounds never wrong.

I just sit back and lay here..every time she sings her song!

My nemesis is the emphasis of skepticism penning redemption, that's a sign they cause tension that's rarely mentioned, true intention is lessened, now confessions are twice self inflicted, we're not decisive, we're conflicted, poetry was goading me to blow a deed, breeds are mistaken, the Gangster's traces soon replaces basis, so they catch cases, can I face it when complacent, no I stare at the sun, Sin City hides pity, so I'm gritty for fun, now let the crisis add spices, take a slice and then shun, at the society though your notoriety is done.