"The truth is that there is nothing noble in being superior to somebody else. The real nobility is being superior to your former self" - Whitney Young
What are we but black men armed
With paper and pen.
Thoughts aspirate as invisible
Up in smoke, lost in foolish
Out wishes are endless,
And our dreams rarely come through
Our memories defined as:
Pain, sorrow, torture,
Where's my father,
What about ME big borther?!
He's shooting around the corner
Remember that block where I let off my first glock?
Cuffed, the bus, the cell, the judge.
Damn, I'm only sixteen!
But now I am a man with a paper and pen.
What the hell do you expect me to write
About, takl about, think about!
This is the life that chose me and i'm
Gonna live it the way that suits me.
I gotta do me or else life itself will continue to do me.
I got a bullet in me, a felony before
Twenty. Enough tears to fill the sea,
Only I don't let them out.
I'll let this paper and pen cry for me.