I guess it's true that I was meant to live this sensitive, spent it in the tent where I expected wins but slept in sin, pins had went in less when I had spoke with introspection, connections with some affection from inspections that only the heart can mention, in it's hidden chambers, though it's weak from strangers, gangbangers, better known as changers to the health upon this lone ranger, came with the pain that would reach the brain, contained, constrained, lanes change, under aim claims exclaim a game is to play but with cheats, when defeated, to the ones that never beat it but repeated it and needed deeds to peak, from reading pleasingly, you will feel as if you're cheated, screaming what this means to me, wings bring me to see, strings seemed to cling to me, shears of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, sings to me, hear fear free from being in this living being, written clear from me, crying in the same style proves you had bitten tears from me, feeling what is dear to me, I could only sue em back if I in fact had steered through sea, but I only neared to flee, giving all falls layouts, since cries were the way out, our lives were the payout, day-in and day-out.

The subject of surprise, was it lies as the two eyes cries, dries, and shies from the star cause the shine dies, describe the scene as a part of green Earth that's dirt as I was pairing this screen with American dreams, you learn to know it was out there, mouths care about that shout that this routes' fair, doubt the announced scare, scouts turn to pout cause they vouched for the stout's dares, now screaming ouch! cause the bout just sprouts where, they learned to share, now impaired, bearing sins, so they're calling in, ten hours later, no more paper, cause it's vapor in, skies, now despised, cause the cries now follow them, learn to taste the problems, cause to solve em, you must swallow them.

Recuperating till exuberant, this two in two is new and numerous, what is humorous is that I never knew what humor is, till I blew the few and luminous lamps in voluminous camps, can I ever get amped if I'm cramped, this stamp on my vamp is a walk in the fuzz, never do I halt till my faults start the buzz, cause these confusing thoughts learn to fuse me lost, uses me a lot, so as soon as I'm distraught, I look at me as you and then assume that we are caught, will duplicates make due for this to prove I grew and sought, and spot me as hot then swap me from knots, I seen my dreams had locked what I got was a flop, popped so I stopped, props dropped so I hissed, even though I'm ******, from the jump, I wasn't ****, hit by the spit of the twists in two, you never get a grip when a scripts' your cue.

Only odds I might've been born against is the things I would eventually grow into, I understand that I'm not growing taller anymore physically but it's like a salary cap kept me from visioning what could be filling up my pockets and indefinitely exceed the increasing cost of living. I know I've illustrated that the potential to grow is always there and that I'm just itching to get there faster as I get older by the day, and also the strength in numbers that represents a team with a bond with hope to unite the community, but I realize that I must implement a salary cap cause unfortunately some of those people I might invest even just time into can shatter those expectations and have me dismissing them as a bust. Wishing to go out with a bang can't correlate with that, plus that gap still has to be filled with some qualified candidate though they more than likely may be filler just there to tide me over to a more permanent fix. It's basically a draft this is into a temp agency I run until I see enough to have me convinced that they can haul enough weight for the long run. At this moment, I'm available to reach 24/7, 365 days, putting in overtime till that 80/20 rule compensates me for this period, don't hesitate to ask, I don't discriminate, I'm always open, leave a message.

Mostly kept quiet, my loudmouth is reserved for those that deserve it; hard to keep a low profile cause a high demand burns holes in my pockets. These Levi's were hand me downs that's quickly tossed to fire, gave back to the earth as a chemical compound; you got nerve to call me cheap and selfish. Your talk is cheap cause you obviously don't understand illiteracy and it could cost you never being heard due to increasing expectations. This comes from experience and just to make ends meet, I had to quiet myself and find where all the hype was coming from, only to learn that closed mouths don't get fed, yes; but, you have to say the magic word(s), and I went hungry for a while, though you still won't see a bib around my neck; hell naw!

The fruits of my labor were my reward for recovering from the vegetative state, eyes on the prize, green was the eye candy that served as the meat and potatoes, want a piece of the pie?, break bread when it doesn't serve as the icing on the cake and feed the children of the corn the beef that's for dinner. All in the family, the power to the people, truth in the eyes of the beholder, the fact is that we don't trust the pigs as they chew not the cud but will eat **** and start **** cause they're simply full of **** and you are what you eat aren't you? No more junk food for me, I'm peachy, pass the mash.

Confrontational conversations, most rooted from observations, despite of the consolation, consolidation, for the route of my household, without it, the mouse scolds, now watch how my mouth folds, about those, goals I mold to see me bloom any sooner, the song I sung as a crooner brought doom resuming the rumours, boomers, bass this case, now lacing this pace that's placing escaping from our true making, now naming this as a nation, frustration, I had patience, but now I can't wait no longer, I'm somber just by that **** that I did, but do you ponder, wonder, how we rate hate by the circular cycle of fools, what rules did you choose, these clues told me you'd lose, abused, so blow your fuse, I'd like to hyphen this day cause my soul is writing the sight how we're fighting for rights we take, you wait, but there's no plate to serve, without supply, demanding for one to hand it to you, we're just a CRY-SHY.

Sober minded, clovers that's bolder is told the finest, turn loose, reduce this solider, pushovers that told their kindness, minus his liveliness, crying "Buy me, I'll die a *****", I can only just imagine the sadness in flashing this, lavishness, with no class, I'm an *** if I'm grabbing this, **** this sash, plus this brass, this task, I'd love to miss, laugh last, fast madness, but cruising to soothe my way, no attractiveness, in fact I'm not ravished, I move away, who's to say, running is gunning for punishment, if you won by ******* this blunt to escape that ruckus *****, **** that ****, stuck in destruction, where is the hype?, I'd like to get my stripes, such a sight to see in the night!, though this life likes tough and then tougher to touch the ****** and delude, the clovers that think they're sober, THIS SOLDIER'S INTERLUDE.

To give you the power I don't even have by admitting that I was wrong and you were right, at least it's off my chest so I can loosen up a bit and adopt a better workout plan. Constantly overwhelming my muscles with work I could've put off tomorrow, I choose to come prepared now and well rested for any test that presents itself to me. I love to see you getting fit and not needing me to spot you on everything anymore cause slowly our favorite spot was turning into a detention center. I have no choice now but to pay attention. It can serve as a reminder that I haven't walked the stage and graduated just yet, I'm an undergrad. Teach me more.

I slept on sleepwalking, woke conscious people can't stand to absorb the vibrations of folks who's mind is tweaked off the twilight zone, at supper time it's a wake up call that it's bed time soon, solar eclipses brought the halo effect, daylight savings time causes us to fall into the habit of taking advantage of the night as the new early morning though summer was my season of love; I had nightcaps at women's houses, my baby making time to **** and call it a day, holiday season, I was greedy but valued giving more as the world turns, becoming a grown man woke for my kids, they stay sharp from rest from the stress of this ever changing day and night, people of the world, I married venus as the man on the moon on cloud nine, haters say I'm from Mars, I'm one with the Universe!

Humble beginnings gave me sloppy seconds initially until I fought for mine. Put my life on the line to put food on the table for you. The **** end of the stick had us wishing for the silver spoon but it was tougher to squash the beef with it cause when I had enough to keep me comfortable in the past, I was more greedy but ended up broke as dirt and couldn't even afford plastic forks and knives. What's a father to do when he can't enjoy his meal? I had to make forks from clay and learn pottery, at least now I'm very good at working with my hands so still I ask for no handouts. Hand me that W.

See these sunny meditations are never handing its style with grace, proven to be funny when understanding the smiling face, spoon of honey not rich in money but rich in taste, though even in the come up, the tummy's hungry but some will say, "I'm definite, inspect my definition and correct your steps, my every breath is left, if deaf, your death will be my mission, you had said there be no *******, but to me, you see the way I prep with skeptical envy, so let me free my glee and step to you, you will respect me, better yet, you will respect my grind and mind just how I checked thee, expect my Tec to wreck your neck with pecks that disconnect thee, you got your final words before I serve to you my best spree, b?",.................... "In fact I do, I sniff a myth in you, you hold your grip but in your lips you spit your stiff, I'm saying if I lift, you'd shift and drift your mind from **** that most just had a fifth of you, your fad is bad but mostly sad, I'm stabbing at the ***** in you, this has a twist we all could list, but **** I'd risk a lengthy disc, so ****** assisting stickiness, you'd listen just to rank me tanked and shank my flank and crank your bank", making but no sedation, style less than funny, tried the sunny meditation, but his face, granting for that understanding, starts demanding for a taste, richer than money, summing up the hungry tummy yearning for the rich, can of self-ambitious, HONEY.

I hate being called a rapper. I love being a poet because there's things I done already did that I wouldn't be able to get away with if I was a rapper. I'll let you see what those things are, until then, let's just all get along and continue to praise rap as poetry that is your own interpretation and has you feel some type of way. If we're all driven, we should be skilled enough to give the green light to anyone willing to merge in any lane of their choice, just be aware that the fast lane poses caution and conditions illustrate what types of situations these roads or streets will welcome you in shall I say. The road to success is narrow cause there's always accidents, the road back home is faster, cause you tend to fall faster than you rise, so it tends to be more deadly cause this tends to be the path where you let yourself go and all the people you may have ****** over and situations you manipulated begin to resurface and take a toll on your body, instead of it really being a War On Drugs, it's actually a war against your heart in which the tools are already at your disposal for you to destroy yourself, and while you probably spent your time calling out black on black crime, working to **** it, the pistol is now in your hands that you probably were gonna use on yourself in desperate suicide but ended up killing a brother who himself, felt that there was no other way out but to rob another ***** to make a living, and if that failed, he would **** himself too like it was something to die for, and here you go, feeling that the world did you wrong with the cards you were dealt, one hell of a story.

Receiving substantial compensation from no other than my competition who knew I was still hungry like a mad man fighting for the little he has left. His pride never left him and he's hungry to feed it back to health so he can be easily distinctive from these sorry motherfuckas expecting handouts but had no will to fight for that ****. I'm the first one there and the last to leave, not tooting my horn cause all I need is my headlights to expose that weakness in your physique. My technique is simple, just a knock out artist punching in and punching out when I'm satisfied with my results after giving it all I got. Another challenge lies ahead; time to lay down another law cause the law of yesterday is not enough to dictate the moves I have to make today. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, bob & weave *******, this survival **** evolves to be one step ahead, gotta step up to the plate- fight your way to heaven, that is all that's left to say.