It wasn't too long ago when I last saw you
But forever is an overwhelming state of mind
See, all emotions are transferrable to expression
It's not by force
But by watching the spool roll down the hallway and unwind
I could never roll it back up
So I learned how to knit
You learn adaptation, and to control your mind
Energies can take harsh tolls
On the stamina of your patience
So just stop thinking from time to time.

it is either/or
spiritual or material,
sophisticated cultural compliance
or young blind revolution,
those are the lenses however;
somewhere in the middling
an abandoned idiot pawns both understandings
with such stark irresponsibility
consciously acknowledging (all) his blunders
greeting good and evil, shadow and light
and those around him laugh and snitch
behind their masked pillar
because his way, his reality
is much different from theirs,
his position rescinds all human meaning
not as tender he seems, he is perhaps closest
to the borderline
a poised vision - a place where
no divisions exist,
of what is transferrable and true
the other side of wilderness.

I take time to remember that the things which broke me
are also the same things that rebuilt me.
I take time to look at my father
and his reaction when I told him
the hands of time which he had no control over
withered my being with a bottle and made me trust men a little less.
I take time to remind my mother
that my issues with affirmation don't come from
never being in love or being alone a little too much
they come from long work days and even longer nights
spent bickering about the child that I see across the halls
that he sees when he looks into the mirror hating himself.
I take time to remember the wall I had my back pinned against
was cold like the winter seasons I spent hiding away
from torment and never descending vocals
attempting to outshine each other
one backhanded comment at a time-
and that it was never my downfall
never what held me back as person or made me afraid.
My downfall was with each slap in the face
that was literal or figurative I figured it was my fault.
But we can't help the hells in which we face
even if those hells are stained red across our faces
I have felt the pain.
I have remembered every moment I tried so hard to repress
and knew the tragedy it had brought me.
But with each moment of sorrow is another story
another reason my fingers hit these keys
instead of letting someone else hit me
I have seen the thunderstorms and slept under dark clouds
awaiting the moment I get struck by lightening.
Death is imminent, as well as pain and happiness
without them we would never appreciate ourselves
and each of our little hells inside of heads and our bodies
that have spent years waiting for validation.
We don't come with receipts, we are non transferrable.
We are that sweater you hate to love
and those old, raggedy boots that match every outfit
that at the end of the day you couldn't throw away if you tried.
The fight isn't over, it starts inside of us with each breathe we take
and the thoughts and feelings we possess are just soldiers
on the war path to defeat whatever life tries to throw our way.
I don't believe in most things..
but I do believe in me
so why should believing in anything else matter
when you have an entire war raging inside of you
just waiting, patiently for it's moment to attack.

Orientations
Behavior
Reasons & Goal Setting
Expectations
And Stress Management
Time & Contingencies
Balance
And Barriers
Overcoming Problems
Control
Teamwork
Safety
Smart Moves
Transferrable Skills
Sunrise or
Sunset on
Your Career

(Verse 1)

I know I ain’t no optimist, but yet I’m still in my prime!
Rolling out with the fellas & ****** **** is so divine.
Chalking up some game with some chicas who be looking hella fine.
Living our lives while our other brothers be serving time.
But that’s the life we chose, a mirrored reflection of the time we hold.
Is the soul transferrable?
Is our fate truly set in stone?
Is there a heaven for a G? Tell me; I’d like to know!
I feel the weight of the world; still, I carry it with pride,
Battling these demons that be creeping up inside.
The system’s rigged against us, but we hustle, we survive,
They want to see us fall, but we rise resiliently with our middle fingers held high!

Is there redemption for a sinner when the story’s already halfway told?
Do we answer for our sins when the universe implodes?
Questions in my mind as I walk this lonely road,
Still searching for the light, though my heart is turning cold…
But in this life, we were never guaranteed any ******* gold.
Good thing God created me a gangster cause gangsters are raised to be resilient and bold!

God created me a gangster who craved straight-up lyrism within my soul!
You have to hustle and grind, and you have to stay vigilant when they put you on parole.
You have to keep your head up and push through it, just like the late great Nat King Cole!
Pray no matter what, not just when things are feeling low!
God created you a gangster man, so start acting like it pendajo!