I do not understand the rich and famous. I do not understand wealth and prestige. I do understand the determined and the suffering of those constantly on their knees.
I cannot clearly see the sunshine nor do I remember the twinkle of the stars. I have visions that are incomplete. I have destinations that seem too far.
A culture whose ills constantly persist, mentalities of minorities with poisons birthed on lips.
Where women have lowered standards, they sell themselves short in these streets. I am guilty of sampling those pleasures, how could I understand them if I didn’t understand me?
Something must change if we are to obtain lives worth living. Perspectives that are cancerous, where the hell is the healing?
They say it’s survival of the fittest, but how can we survive if we are all sick. We are victims of illusions; we keep falling for the same tricks.
You will never be nothing, you won’t live to see eighteen, or you’ll end up in prison birthing bitterness at all that is seen.
Through the bars, the fences, or on your cellblock, you’ll take that same mentality back home waiting for change with a Glock.
Get it? We have jacked ourselves or allowed ourselves to be jacked. I am not looking for reparations; I just want true identities back.
I want love and life for yours, but I desire it more for mine. You can’t see what we’ve seen you haven’t changed your paradigm.