Hazy clouds loom over urban landscape

Watch the broken man speak broken words that vibrate.

You can watch my people die at a high rate...

(They) Concerned with shiny things,

And thick ass hips that gyrate

I kept my mind straight for quarter century

As so-called Mc's spit rhymes from nurseries

It's irking me as I wander woeful path of poverty

How they eying me and have no respect for poetry

Pure anger keeps building internal,

Liquid language to manage my mental

Topple holy temples,

Await the brimstone with open arms

Bloody palms I smear on psalms to keep me calm

Fallen icons reborn on local access stations

Promise salvation for only $2.99

Turn water to wine

Give sight to the blind

But all in due time.... All in due time...

Fractured paradigm speaks in broken circles

Secular men, though wise,

Haven't digested verbals.

I gaze through glazed eyes that view me as indigent.

Innocence lost by last tribe of dirty life

My meaning's between my left lung and my mic

You listen too close to these rhymes I recite

Ignite thoughts in those thought gone

But a pawn who upset the whole scheme.

Message in morphine.

  


And or live?

And or die?

And or breath?

And or die?

  


I speak from soured milkcrates verses thrown to fate

Thought you could recognize what once were the breaks

Mindstate irrate as I wander aimlessly

One to the head could end this painlessly

Shamelessly I speak to self on street corners

Handed change as street performer

Coronors pack morgues like clubs

As kids pack their guns

Cause everyone wants to outshine the Sun

As night ends at dusk

Forgot which truth to trust

In midst of getting bent your iron will turns rust

Stand at cusp of changing earth

Remain amongst the dirt

Quench thirst with viscous red liquid

Reality shifted in different existence

Your fiction sells millions

My truth waits to die

I arrive with bloodshot eyes where I was never welcomed

Seldom speak in complete sentence

Thoughts kept condensed

Connect with essence of entire subculture

Physical still tortured

Mental nurtured in nocturne

I watch them watch me out of corner of eye

Pupils dilate

I speak ancient daleks

Emote traits of my forefathers

Travel further back to days of drums

When chants spoken not sung

Heavily hung 

Upon ancient tounge. 

  


And or live?

And or die?

And or breath?

And or die?