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"snitching" poems
☮ ☮ ☮ **Society needs more Social Justice. Humanity needs peaceworkers.** Peace and Social Justice must be promoted aggressively. There are inequities that must be addressed. Power is not equally distributed. Neither are resources or wealth. Neither are poetic gifts or vision equitably distributed. Unearned privilege is rampant. Poetry must confront this global crisis of capitalist exploitation and manipulation. Poetry must speak to the masses. Poetry must radicalize and inform consciousness to new levels of social change. Marginalized citizens must be empowered. All ****** gender-based, racial, religious, age-based, homophobic, xenophobic, and gynophobic bigots must be brought to see in a new way through our poetry. Community building and local empowerment are of the order. Our poetry must be global in scope – yet rooted and grounded in local community empowerment. Selfless acts of service to promote and increase Social Justice are needed. Lives selflessly devoted to establishing social justice are called for. Our poetic lives must be laid on the altar of the dis-enfranchised and unrepresented. We, as consciously aware poets, must advocate and speak out for those who have no voice. We, as poets, must, through stirring words of Social Justice, embody through our radical verses the burning hope of a just and sustainable future. This future must become increasingly collective as formerly marginalized consumers become empowered community-builders  –  through our poetry. As poets of the sustainable future we will empower and inform. Our poetry must collectivize, entitle and enslave. We must speak with ONE VOICE: the voice of change and social justice. Our words will rise with healing in their wings and lift whole communities from despair to radicalized self-awareness in communities filled with strident, intolerant and maniacal practitioners of PEACE & SOCIAL JUSTICE. All poets who do not lay their entire creative and lyrical selves on the altar of struggle to bring CHANGE and SOCIAL JUSTICE will be LIQUIDATED by our own EMPOWERED POETRY. IN THE END WE WILL WRITE A PURE POETRY OF SOCIAL CHANGE, ALL IN CAPS, AND THIS POETRY OF SOCIAL JUSTICE AND EMPOWERMENT WILL BE READ OVER THE GRAVES OF ALL SELL-OUT, CORPORATE, FASCIST, SNITCHING, SELFISH, UNEMPOWERED AND UNEMPOWERING TRAITORS AND ENEMIES OF SOCIAL JUSTICE.  IN THE END THERE WILL BE NO PUNCTUATION OR EVEN WORDS ONLY PURE IMAGES OF CHANGE + VISIONARY COLLABORATION IN SOCIAL TRANSFORMATION/MAYBE SLASH MARKS/OKAY MAYBE EXCLAMATION POINTS TOO BUT ONLY THOSE ! WHY? BECAUSE THE ONLY GOOD POET IS A LIVING POET WHO HAS LIQUIDATED EVERY FALSE POET NOT COMMITTED TO THE STRUGGLE FOR SOCIAL JUSTICE ! LONG LIVE POETRY IN ACTION THROUGH CHANGE! WRITE/SPEAK/AGITATE FOR  SOCIAL JUSTICE  & EMPOWERMENT ! **POETRY IS STRUGGLE☻ STRUGGLE IS CHANGE☻ CHANGE REQUIRES SOCIAL JUSTICE☻ SOCIAL JUSTICE BRINGS PEACE☻ PEACE BRINGS WAR☻ WAR BRINGS CONFUSION & DEATH☻** (SO DON’T BE CONFUSED)
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Agitating the Spin Cycle
☮ ☮ ☮ **Society needs more Social Justice. Humanity needs peaceworkers.** Peace and Social Justice must be promoted aggressively. There are inequities that must be addressed. Power is not equally distributed. Neither are resources or wealth. Neither are poetic gifts or vision equitably distributed. Unearned privilege is rampant. Poetry must confront this global crisis of capitalist exploitation and manipulation. Poetry must speak to the masses. Poetry must radicalize and inform consciousness to new levels of social change. Marginalized citizens must be empowered. All ****** gender-based, racial, religious, age-based, homophobic, xenophobic, and gynophobic bigots must be brought to see in a new way through our poetry. Community building and local empowerment are of the order. Our poetry must be global in scope – yet rooted and grounded in local community empowerment. Selfless acts of service to promote and increase Social Justice are needed. Lives selflessly devoted to establishing social justice are called for. Our poetic lives must be laid on the altar of the dis-enfranchised and unrepresented. We, as consciously aware poets, must advocate and speak out for those who have no voice. We, as poets, must, through stirring words of Social Justice, embody through our radical verses the burning hope of a just and sustainable future. This future must become increasingly collective as formerly marginalized consumers become empowered community-builders  –  through our poetry. As poets of the sustainable future we will empower and inform. Our poetry must collectivize, entitle and enslave. We must speak with ONE VOICE: the voice of change and social justice. Our words will rise with healing in their wings and lift whole communities from despair to radicalized self-awareness in communities filled with strident, intolerant and maniacal practitioners of PEACE & SOCIAL JUSTICE. All poets who do not lay their entire creative and lyrical selves on the altar of struggle to bring CHANGE and SOCIAL JUSTICE will be LIQUIDATED by our own EMPOWERED POETRY. IN THE END WE WILL WRITE A PURE POETRY OF SOCIAL CHANGE, ALL IN CAPS, AND THIS POETRY OF SOCIAL JUSTICE AND EMPOWERMENT WILL BE READ OVER THE GRAVES OF ALL SELL-OUT, CORPORATE, FASCIST, SNITCHING, SELFISH, UNEMPOWERED AND UNEMPOWERING TRAITORS AND ENEMIES OF SOCIAL JUSTICE.  IN THE END THERE WILL BE NO PUNCTUATION OR EVEN WORDS ONLY PURE IMAGES OF CHANGE + VISIONARY COLLABORATION IN SOCIAL TRANSFORMATION/MAYBE SLASH MARKS/OKAY MAYBE EXCLAMATION POINTS TOO BUT ONLY THOSE ! WHY? BECAUSE THE ONLY GOOD POET IS A LIVING POET WHO HAS LIQUIDATED EVERY FALSE POET NOT COMMITTED TO THE STRUGGLE FOR SOCIAL JUSTICE ! LONG LIVE POETRY IN ACTION THROUGH CHANGE! WRITE/SPEAK/AGITATE FOR  SOCIAL JUSTICE  & EMPOWERMENT ! **POETRY IS STRUGGLE☻ STRUGGLE IS CHANGE☻ CHANGE REQUIRES SOCIAL JUSTICE☻ SOCIAL JUSTICE BRINGS PEACE☻ PEACE BRINGS WAR☻ WAR BRINGS CONFUSION & DEATH☻** (SO DON’T BE CONFUSED)
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16
Reality hanging by a thread. Coke cans and cannons by my bed. Show girls shooting up to the head. Solace for the strong, seizures for the dead. Pac in the boombox If the packs don't boom I hope the boom pops. If the boom don't pop she got a new pops. Red lips serving blows up on the new blocks. Humble pie in my abode in a bid to abide. But the coke on the stove says the law is a lie. Caught slipping, no snitching so my name shall survive. Out in 10, when I return Throw some paper to the sky, let the wind and caution colide. I'll need a long island on the rocks. Escape the piles we turn to rocks. We held their lives within our glocks. The doors were locked so we turned to the knocks. Boys in the hood with the little coke babies. Girls in the hood holding little hope babies. Daddy never came but we live in hope baby. All I had were bricks, had to build a home baby.
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 3:47 AM UTC
Coke, Baby.
She hushes me repeatedly as if my voice could be– too loud for these shrunken, elder walls What voice can I revive to tell her that this little place...reminds me...? Ratchet up the memories   the young mistakes my welfare “townhouse” as if my voice could be too loud?! Where does anger go to say These cheesy rugs remind me! of the smoky halls, stoop-sittin’ head lice, **** roach fumigated invasion Music loud enough to blow pipes induce trauma through the walls Thud Crash “Stupid **** Knife-weildin’, drug-sellin’, boyfriend-of-a-future A can of beer later... with stress on hold the smells of dinner, now—all fifteen of them! Assault me through the front window “Ya there yet? ...to this “cute little apartment, I mean?" So it’s sold… Someone else will wash windows, rake the yard Shovel Massachusetts snow Christmas lights come down in my mind— Running toward them still Toes numb Skates bouncin on my back Sled firing off sparks against the sidewalk in my wake Running and as always late Mittens soaked, heavy Like my eyes— Mom and I looking out this window for the last time Looking out toward the daughter of the woods I was Behind—me the bride sinks to the bare mattress— “Was it really 57 years? How can it be?” since...clutching can opener and Coke He scooped her up and through that door....    “How can it be?   Oh my….” "You can always keep the memories." she chirps to check the tears                                                                                                                             But I can’t taste them! …Mom baking cookies stew and dumplings on the stove Snitching chocolate bits waiting for the bowl Impatient little helpers at her side Colors slipping… A child husks corn in sunlight A blue Huffy gleams behind birthday candles Sheets billow from the line Sounds fading... A choir of music boxes before the Christmas carnage Doing dishes in three-part harmony I can barely wrap my words around our voices! “You can always keep the memories” Preamble to the dutiful decision Hypothermic excuse to dump the place Street sign shrinking in the rear-view
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Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
Downsizing
She hushes me repeatedly as if my voice could be– too loud for these shrunken, elder walls What voice can I revive to tell her that this little place...reminds me...? Ratchet up the memories   the young mistakes my welfare “townhouse” as if my voice could be too loud?! Where does anger go to say These cheesy rugs remind me! of the smoky halls, stoop-sittin’ head lice, **** roach fumigated invasion Music loud enough to blow pipes induce trauma through the walls Thud Crash “Stupid **** Knife-weildin’, drug-sellin’, boyfriend-of-a-future A can of beer later... with stress on hold the smells of dinner, now—all fifteen of them! Assault me through the front window “Ya there yet? ...to this “cute little apartment, I mean?" So it’s sold… Someone else will wash windows, rake the yard Shovel Massachusetts snow Christmas lights come down in my mind— Running toward them still Toes numb Skates bouncin on my back Sled firing off sparks against the sidewalk in my wake Running and as always late Mittens soaked, heavy Like my eyes— Mom and I looking out this window for the last time Looking out toward the daughter of the woods I was Behind—me the bride sinks to the bare mattress— “Was it really 57 years? How can it be?” since...clutching can opener and Coke He scooped her up and through that door....    “How can it be?   Oh my….” "You can always keep the memories." she chirps to check the tears                                                                                                                             But I can’t taste them! …Mom baking cookies stew and dumplings on the stove Snitching chocolate bits waiting for the bowl Impatient little helpers at her side Colors slipping… A child husks corn in sunlight A blue Huffy gleams behind birthday candles Sheets billow from the line Sounds fading... A choir of music boxes before the Christmas carnage Doing dishes in three-part harmony I can barely wrap my words around our voices! “You can always keep the memories” Preamble to the dutiful decision Hypothermic excuse to dump the place Street sign shrinking in the rear-view
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70
FAKE FRIENDS You call me a friend, as you pull out a knife You stab me in the back, not once but twice Friends for life, but that’s a straight up lie You aint gotta clue, about Ride or Die I’m surrounded by wolves that are dressed like sheep Telling straight lies, dry snitching on me Claiming it wasn’t you, behind the line up glass You straight pointed out me, to save your own *** I’d rather sweat buckets, to search out peace Than spilling gallons of blood, fighting demons in me The battle continues, frighten the anger within It’s a full time job, dealing with FAKE *** FRIENDS Ever time I think I know, what you’ll do next You end up selling me out, for a yard or less You made you a dollar, so I’m screaming again You’re a straight up punk, a FAKE *** FRIEND       I can sit and formulate a plan in my head Take a ****** shot; make your FAKE *** DEAD Now I’m on the run, a fugitive at large Aint a FAKE *** FRIEND around, worth taking a charge Their a dime a dozen, you can find them anywhere Just don’t be fooled, because its buyer beware It’s a known street rule, don’t say it wasn’t said Because FAKE *** FRIENDS, usually wined up dead But ill take what GOD gave me common sense, and walk away It’s a soft *** move, but Ill write another day Not locked up covered up, dealing with my sins Nothing wrong with cutting off, a FAKE *** FRIEND Aint a chick or dude around, can’t relate to what I’m saying We all had friends, which were straight perpetrating Saying they got our back, all the way to the end Same ole same ole, just a FAKE *** FRIEND So now I ride solo, I know it’s a risk If push comes to shove, Ill add my girl to the list Now I’m RICH and FAMOUS, and you wanna make amends But as I told you before, **** FAKE *** FRIENDS!
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
FAKE *** FRIENDS.
FAKE FRIENDS You call me a friend, as you pull out a knife You stab me in the back, not once but twice Friends for life, but that’s a straight up lie You aint gotta clue, about Ride or Die I’m surrounded by wolves that are dressed like sheep Telling straight lies, dry snitching on me Claiming it wasn’t you, behind the line up glass You straight pointed out me, to save your own *** I’d rather sweat buckets, to search out peace Than spilling gallons of blood, fighting demons in me The battle continues, frighten the anger within It’s a full time job, dealing with FAKE *** FRIENDS Ever time I think I know, what you’ll do next You end up selling me out, for a yard or less You made you a dollar, so I’m screaming again You’re a straight up punk, a FAKE *** FRIEND       I can sit and formulate a plan in my head Take a ****** shot; make your FAKE *** DEAD Now I’m on the run, a fugitive at large Aint a FAKE *** FRIEND around, worth taking a charge Their a dime a dozen, you can find them anywhere Just don’t be fooled, because its buyer beware It’s a known street rule, don’t say it wasn’t said Because FAKE *** FRIENDS, usually wined up dead But ill take what GOD gave me common sense, and walk away It’s a soft *** move, but Ill write another day Not locked up covered up, dealing with my sins Nothing wrong with cutting off, a FAKE *** FRIEND Aint a chick or dude around, can’t relate to what I’m saying We all had friends, which were straight perpetrating Saying they got our back, all the way to the end Same ole same ole, just a FAKE *** FRIEND So now I ride solo, I know it’s a risk If push comes to shove, Ill add my girl to the list Now I’m RICH and FAMOUS, and you wanna make amends But as I told you before, **** FAKE *** FRIENDS!
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37
my kindness is my weakness not mistaken but taken for exactly what it is and you you peeped game recognized that nothing in me would allow life to hurt you so your shield i became taking every bullet every sword every bill collector trying to put you in chains handling things the way your woman should the way your woman could the way your woman would if your woman was me but it's not cause i'm crazy content with being less than anything no title no name no definition just occasional **** to prolong my ******** i'm itching to get to snitching and tell all of your women that it's no competition The Problem's coalition all on a mission to handle all of your business you're welcome but i'm not thanked no gratitude or appreciation shows on your face your clothes are washed you're well fed and your bills, all paid at this point every ***** is wondering why does she stay but my ladies know we see our men as what they really could be if they didn't have 3, 4 or well 15 on the team so you have no time to worry about my needs cause what i wont do she will and she does and she's never done but she'll do it for you you lucky ******* fool the world is in your hands and i'm Pinnocio for you my girls know how my nose grows when i lie and say i don't care cause everytime i'm ready to exhale and exit this hell of living in the balance with you you smother me sucker me cover me with a pillow of sweet words and gift me with a hope filled rillo you season my chicken with new found understanding and pour me a tall glass of tall tales of how you hope this **** last and i stay so for my unhappiness who else can i blame but the good in me for hoping that eventually you will change.
0
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 12:57 AM UTC
The Problem with Kindness
my kindness is my weakness not mistaken but taken for exactly what it is and you you peeped game recognized that nothing in me would allow life to hurt you so your shield i became taking every bullet every sword every bill collector trying to put you in chains handling things the way your woman should the way your woman could the way your woman would if your woman was me but it's not cause i'm crazy content with being less than anything no title no name no definition just occasional **** to prolong my ******** i'm itching to get to snitching and tell all of your women that it's no competition The Problem's coalition all on a mission to handle all of your business you're welcome but i'm not thanked no gratitude or appreciation shows on your face your clothes are washed you're well fed and your bills, all paid at this point every ***** is wondering why does she stay but my ladies know we see our men as what they really could be if they didn't have 3, 4 or well 15 on the team so you have no time to worry about my needs cause what i wont do she will and she does and she's never done but she'll do it for you you lucky ******* fool the world is in your hands and i'm Pinnocio for you my girls know how my nose grows when i lie and say i don't care cause everytime i'm ready to exhale and exit this hell of living in the balance with you you smother me sucker me cover me with a pillow of sweet words and gift me with a hope filled rillo you season my chicken with new found understanding and pour me a tall glass of tall tales of how you hope this **** last and i stay so for my unhappiness who else can i blame but the good in me for hoping that eventually you will change.
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67
it’s hard to express yourself when, the voices say i am snitching or squealing, i am not, i am trying to express myself you see it’s hard to express myself when the people know they are in the wrong and they know it, so they tease in a very horrible way, i am a person you see it’s hard to express yourself when, nobody cares what you have to say, i don’t want to have this horrible teasing voice when i am expressing myself i am not squealing, i am trying to clean my brain out, mind you it’s hard to express myself when i hear voices of my past being horrible to me i don’t deserve this, you see it’s hard to express myself when when i express myself, my dad comes in and says your too shy to be like brian let us men take over, but what i am trying to do is clean my brain, i don’t want give money till i want to give money, i need to look after myself i didn’t want to buy that kid a pack of smokes, i hate kids who tease like that, just to get me in trouble with the men it’s hard to express myself when, people think i liked being shy as a kid, when i hated it, it’s hard to express myself when my voices are keeping me with the crazy people in the psych ward, i will never be as ******* up as them, but they have problems, and i am a nice person i am too nice to be a psych ward patient it’s hard to express myself when i feel people are saying your getting kidnapped all the fucken time it’s hard to express myself when people judge me me of how i used to be, and not how i am now it’s hard to express myself when people treat me like the person i used to be, a scared to express myself dude, to who i am dude, a loving life dude it’s hard to express myself when i feel people are trying to get me back to the person i was, because, i ****** off a lot of people, I HAVE CHANGED it’s hard to express myself i hear that voice of the past saying, what’s ya problem, **** what’s ya problem, **** it’s hard to express myself when, the voices laugh at me when i have problems at doing something, i don’t want to be shy no more it’s hard to express myself when, people say when i say i am not shy, people presume i want to fight, I DON’T it’s hard to express myself when people are saying i am christian, but i am a buddhist, ya know cleaning my brain it’s hard to express myself when i say i need to clean my brain, someone gets a garden hose and splashes it in my eyes saying, your still a little shy boy, LEAVE ME ALONE it’s hard to express myself when, people are wanting me to do what i used to do, when i want to move on to the next phase of my life, putting my art and writing out there it’s hard to express myself when, people saying we’re still not leaving you alone, all the fucken time, LEAVE ME ALONE, **** it’s hard to express myself when people wanting me to be like their mob, when i hate being treated like a little woosey i would like to find the person who put the voices in my head, and give him these voices to see how he likes it, I AM NOT MENTAL, I HAVE SCHITZOPHRENIA, ok
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Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
it's hard to express myself ....... people can't except i am grown up
it’s hard to express yourself when, the voices say i am snitching or squealing, i am not, i am trying to express myself you see it’s hard to express myself when the people know they are in the wrong and they know it, so they tease in a very horrible way, i am a person you see it’s hard to express yourself when, nobody cares what you have to say, i don’t want to have this horrible teasing voice when i am expressing myself i am not squealing, i am trying to clean my brain out, mind you it’s hard to express myself when i hear voices of my past being horrible to me i don’t deserve this, you see it’s hard to express myself when when i express myself, my dad comes in and says your too shy to be like brian let us men take over, but what i am trying to do is clean my brain, i don’t want give money till i want to give money, i need to look after myself i didn’t want to buy that kid a pack of smokes, i hate kids who tease like that, just to get me in trouble with the men it’s hard to express myself when, people think i liked being shy as a kid, when i hated it, it’s hard to express myself when my voices are keeping me with the crazy people in the psych ward, i will never be as ******* up as them, but they have problems, and i am a nice person i am too nice to be a psych ward patient it’s hard to express myself when i feel people are saying your getting kidnapped all the fucken time it’s hard to express myself when people judge me me of how i used to be, and not how i am now it’s hard to express myself when people treat me like the person i used to be, a scared to express myself dude, to who i am dude, a loving life dude it’s hard to express myself when i feel people are trying to get me back to the person i was, because, i ****** off a lot of people, I HAVE CHANGED it’s hard to express myself i hear that voice of the past saying, what’s ya problem, **** what’s ya problem, **** it’s hard to express myself when, the voices laugh at me when i have problems at doing something, i don’t want to be shy no more it’s hard to express myself when, people say when i say i am not shy, people presume i want to fight, I DON’T it’s hard to express myself when people are saying i am christian, but i am a buddhist, ya know cleaning my brain it’s hard to express myself when i say i need to clean my brain, someone gets a garden hose and splashes it in my eyes saying, your still a little shy boy, LEAVE ME ALONE it’s hard to express myself when, people are wanting me to do what i used to do, when i want to move on to the next phase of my life, putting my art and writing out there it’s hard to express myself when, people saying we’re still not leaving you alone, all the fucken time, LEAVE ME ALONE, **** it’s hard to express myself when people wanting me to be like their mob, when i hate being treated like a little woosey i would like to find the person who put the voices in my head, and give him these voices to see how he likes it, I AM NOT MENTAL, I HAVE SCHITZOPHRENIA, ok
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25
They dance tae boots n' cats like ants being crushed by boots: Squirming, wriggling, writhing wae jaws scraping the flare.   They scurry like wee rats under the ground in cahoots: snidely sneaking, snitching under the boots n' cats they blare. "Boots n cats urr booming doon yer ears.  Boots n cats huv been oan repeat fur years.  Boots n cats will perforate yer ears.  Boots n cats huv been oan repeat fur years" But then sumday changed the beat:          It Came in oan the and. And everyone forgot how tae dance.
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Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
Boots n Cats
Mocking bird do not go to the grinning sun and tell him my secret
0
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 1:56 PM UTC
Snitching Mocking Bird
1- Totes inaprope dope smoker swisher toker blunt wrap roper you be like my ole aunt groper 2- She be grabbin ***** on all ya’ll in the Fall by the ball court short shorts and written reports 3- ******* dorks and eatin pork like nanu nanu Mork with a stork baby drop on the porch 4- Carry the torch to the couch jump up ta bounce see a fool to trounce and slap in the head 5- Make him brain dead said I see red in bedrooms full a ***** mothers slack jaw brothers 6- Druther act like one another than smother muthafuckers with rubber maid garbage cans 7- Hand feeding planned partenthood in the hood acting no good wit mad wood ya shoulda 8- Put those down came round and found a pound for slingin, bringing back the Ringling elephants 9- And cellophane wrapper sandwiches ******* snitching on rich kids for gambling small wagers 10- Drunken rage-ers deranged rangers feeding bears strangers and rearranging body parts 11- Carded farters impart special gasses on mass media fascists  allowing brash
0
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
unfinished --11 of 16 bars (MCDJpj's)
I dont need help. Maybe I do. Do I? How the hell would you know..unless you are in my head fighting the demons off..but you know that you’d NEVER **** them..right?? Im talking to myself. Is that crazy? Insane? ****** Does everyone talk to themselves the way I do? I need help! I’ve asked but,I ran away. From help...thats how insane I am… help? Is there such thing? Maybe. Maybe not. Well maybe not for me. Help is a definition of **** me slowly.. When you ask for help you get tortured,humiliated your demons in your head scream and laugh at how much of a ******* wimp you are for snitching on them! You will never get help if you're in my situation you’ll only suffer your heart will only keep breaking and your demons will grow bigger.
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Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
STUBBORN
He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross. Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce. Verse 1 Driving around fronting like a boss. Feel the connection, better come correct kid. For in the hood one is always in need of some protection. And if ya don’t ya best watch your neck kid. It’s all about respect kid. So better watch your mouth kid. Because yawl be dead if ya ever start snitching. For If you wanna survive you just gotta be packing. And If you wanna a meal on your plate than ya better start stealing. Just be careful because the pigs always creeping. Watching our houses, tapping our phones, Every day and every weekend. For there is no freedom in the project zone. It’s like gulag out here man, with gangs all trying to sit on the iron porcelain throne. But it doesn’t mean **** for the government will still be the true al capoene. Testing out their drugs on us like we lab rats. Using racism and propaganda to keep us on our backs. Which makes makes me wonder why the rest of our society don’t just neuter these ***** cats? **** But as long as... He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross. Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce. Verse 2 Stunting with my money like a true mob boss! You want power? You want respect? You want to fly around in a purple jet? Than ya better come correct. I feel ya J, we gotta makes them waves. Like a big kahuna, drinking some corona. Coming in like a super hero to save the day. We will be the rulers, taking out the opposition like a true mobster. And ya might think us monsters, but we just doing what we can with this natural disaster. That you created, ya I ain’t faded. Opportunity for all, in this world so devastated. From Atlanta to the bronks. Only got one rule, which is don’t be a foolish punk. You gotta think smart and not just rely on luck. For every dog has its day, so be careful where you run a muck. Just as long as you never forget... He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross. Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce. Got that money, power, and fame like Kriss kross. Do you got that sauce? Does he have that sauce? Because if you don’t, than that’s a loss. So remember to never lose that sauce.
0
Jun 7, 2019
Jun 7, 2019 at 9:50 PM UTC
All about that Sauce
He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross. Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce. Verse 1 Driving around fronting like a boss. Feel the connection, better come correct kid. For in the hood one is always in need of some protection. And if ya don’t ya best watch your neck kid. It’s all about respect kid. So better watch your mouth kid. Because yawl be dead if ya ever start snitching. For If you wanna survive you just gotta be packing. And If you wanna a meal on your plate than ya better start stealing. Just be careful because the pigs always creeping. Watching our houses, tapping our phones, Every day and every weekend. For there is no freedom in the project zone. It’s like gulag out here man, with gangs all trying to sit on the iron porcelain throne. But it doesn’t mean **** for the government will still be the true al capoene. Testing out their drugs on us like we lab rats. Using racism and propaganda to keep us on our backs. Which makes makes me wonder why the rest of our society don’t just neuter these ***** cats? **** But as long as... He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross. Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce. Verse 2 Stunting with my money like a true mob boss! You want power? You want respect? You want to fly around in a purple jet? Than ya better come correct. I feel ya J, we gotta makes them waves. Like a big kahuna, drinking some corona. Coming in like a super hero to save the day. We will be the rulers, taking out the opposition like a true mobster. And ya might think us monsters, but we just doing what we can with this natural disaster. That you created, ya I ain’t faded. Opportunity for all, in this world so devastated. From Atlanta to the bronks. Only got one rule, which is don’t be a foolish punk. You gotta think smart and not just rely on luck. For every dog has its day, so be careful where you run a muck. Just as long as you never forget... He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross. Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce. Got that money, power, and fame like Kriss kross. Do you got that sauce? Does he have that sauce? Because if you don’t, than that’s a loss. So remember to never lose that sauce.
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Anomous snitching, Tooth dead crinching, The Grinch has made his way in!! Talk of the town, What's made is yours, And what's ours is yours. You bee sting amongst the nest!! Epeleptic symptoms turn the chairs of doctoria request!!! Antsy fingers, Written unspokeness, While the ongoing brokenness rewrites history paradox sense!! Repentance, Repentance, Jurrassic marmelade! Giving up all your readiness for our creditless credit carded trades!!! Grass root momentary, Head stone obituary, you are soo lovely in day!!! The weeds that pull wrap divinely, Enter signification relieve all things timely... Relinquishments own freshing!!! Grads of the ages for a scripturetic blessing, How seasonal this all is!!!!!!!!! Four chambered mansion, hearts beats immaculate to sweets and treat's of sugar can value!!! Where coffee rocks fall through open lace of white state rags....
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May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
chipping at the bone
The beautiful pedals on a rose shine vibrant with sunlight. Morning dew still lies on top of the white veins in the flower. Society is calling its hour They say we fight for peace and freedom but do we really? Or do we fight of judgment and sorrow… Every day's hour is calling for tomorrow. Girls walk and boys play As the rose is watching from far away. Poison hits the air when she gossips her words Another sound of judgment is passed on to snitching birds Spreading like fire through day and night Electricity is in this fight The boys are viewed as tough not weak Squishing girls underneath their cheek This is an injustice This is not right To have society let the man go who caused a fight To let him walk with his sin of **** While the girl sits alone listening to a single song tape How is this justice to let him go The young girl sits watching & breaking on her own. She is now broken for life A memory that’s placed as quickly as a clasp knife To hide behind smiles and lies This man will strike a again… While the red rose dies.
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Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 5:54 PM UTC
Red Rose
Story of my life.... My criminal offense I did 2 years in a cage Got sent away for loving you I participated and didn't call it off I was an accomplice to love I was there for you, with you Played a part in your love affair Then you trapped me in your circle of promises Broken promises I went to jail for your own sins Dishonesty, untrustworthy, alcoholism irresponsible, careless, self-centeredness sexist, ungrateful, unapologetic Should've known better That **** got me locked up Got released but am on probation Had to do a little bit of snitching...introspection Got lucky, things could've went pear shaped Pulled myself together now I got to testify Tell the whole world how you molested my trust How you emotionally ***** me How you beat my heart to a pulp How I couldn't stop you though I tried I have to confess all of that Else I am facing a life sentence of abuse, brokenness and loneliness I have to testify against you and set myself free from binding chains So help me God to tell the truth And finally get to walk away
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Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
Imprisoned
Take a saw And cut me down deeply Slowly, Starting from my head Through my heart, Down to my sick belly So, I could feel the agony You poured on me Vengeance might be a way But I will settle down for a say Like a boiling water on ice Dripping the pain into my veins You shall succeed being a monster A stranger after all we did Together, snitching out on me
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Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
Cut Me Down
By:Cedric McClester I hope a random act of violence Can bring an end to the code of silence Because a six-year-old boy was stabbed to death And his seven-year-old female companion was left With multiple stab wound injuries Now the doctors are exploring contingencies And the neighborhood is left feeling bereft Tell me what more could be left He was just a little baby His mother cried, "Lord save me!" What’s this whole world coming to How could somebody do What they did to her only son But now that the deed has been done Will the neighbors cling to their tired code Or have the courage to unload Things have gotten too far gone To say they’ve not would be wrong I know for some snitching is tough But when is enough, enough How many children have to die Before the police will be able to rely On someone stepping up to the plate To stop the madness before it is too late (c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC
A RANDOM ACT OF VIOLENCE?
I remember when I was still smallest in the lands, And he smiled as I held the still beating heart, Of a gasping fish in my pretty little hands, A ruby red ball we gleefully tore apart, Just to drop it used, a memory now distant, To be forgotten in an instant. The bigger I grew, The more transparent he became, Once I was through, He was always the same, Belittling, snitching, cutting and loathing, Yet I was the one he proclaimed danced in sheep's clothing. As the end of my imprisonment grew near, A golden number just a few months away, Something broke, discretely shattering my fear, Leaving the cold little stone for which he now must pay, For by tarnishing my heart with his cold grimy hands, It was a key he threw away, his arms encased in cool shackle bands. Soon it will be I who is free, and trapped to rot, it will be he, bitter, and green, he asked and he got, he laughed when I cried, now with no guilt, his pleas are denied.
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Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 12:32 AM UTC
Gremlin
By: Cedric McClester They wanna know Am I obsessed Perhaps I am Just as they suggest But lies eventually Get undressed Whether denied Or confessed And we’ve been lied to Convincingly And that’s the problem Don’t cha see Cos I refuse To let it be One day I know We’ll all be free They wanna know Why I’m so mad As if bein angry Is so bad The fact they’re not To me is sad Guess they don’t know When they’ve been had They wanna wave The red white and blue But would they still If they knew The true nature of the beast And why were really In the Middle East So that the vultures get to feast They wanna know Why I write About this subject Day and night But I’m just tryin To shed some light On how and why We’re in this fight And someone has to speak Truth to power So I seized the moment And the hour I’ll not let them Make me cower The situation Is too dower They wanna know Why I feel So compelled To keep it real Snitching don’t have Much appeal But someone has to Tell the deal The 9-11 sentiment Ain’t the reason That we went It’s the oil Get the hint That’s the truth Of why we went They wanna know But then they don’t Some will believe While others won’t But I still try To raise the roof And I don’t talk Without the proof Now he won’t tell ya That he goofed He should have stayed On the Vermouth Maybe then He’d be more mellow Instead he’s just A cocky fellow They wanna know But I’m not tellin That George Dubya Must be jellin Y’all know That the man’s a felon And I don’t believe You’re askin me The nature of his felony You have eyes Use them to see Yo we’re at war And don’t have to be And I guess it's clear enough to see That he is not the remedy (c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
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Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 8:45 AM UTC
THEY WANNA KNOW WHY
By: Cedric McClester They wanna know Am I obsessed Perhaps I am Just as they suggest But lies eventually Get undressed Whether denied Or confessed And we’ve been lied to Convincingly And that’s the problem Don’t cha see Cos I refuse To let it be One day I know We’ll all be free They wanna know Why I’m so mad As if bein angry Is so bad The fact they’re not To me is sad Guess they don’t know When they’ve been had They wanna wave The red white and blue But would they still If they knew The true nature of the beast And why were really In the Middle East So that the vultures get to feast They wanna know Why I write About this subject Day and night But I’m just tryin To shed some light On how and why We’re in this fight And someone has to speak Truth to power So I seized the moment And the hour I’ll not let them Make me cower The situation Is too dower They wanna know Why I feel So compelled To keep it real Snitching don’t have Much appeal But someone has to Tell the deal The 9-11 sentiment Ain’t the reason That we went It’s the oil Get the hint That’s the truth Of why we went They wanna know But then they don’t Some will believe While others won’t But I still try To raise the roof And I don’t talk Without the proof Now he won’t tell ya That he goofed He should have stayed On the Vermouth Maybe then He’d be more mellow Instead he’s just A cocky fellow They wanna know But I’m not tellin That George Dubya Must be jellin Y’all know That the man’s a felon And I don’t believe You’re askin me The nature of his felony You have eyes Use them to see Yo we’re at war And don’t have to be And I guess it's clear enough to see That he is not the remedy (c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
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