A slam poem about a whole lotta stuff from 2003
My music includes rock music, hip hop beats, chill instrumentals, and I'll vary it up and include just about anything. I like to be diverse.
I sing, write lyrics and play guitar. I also make beats and instrumentals on my computer. I just recently started sampling in my beats.
Lyrics
I’m about to spit it out to show you what life’s about, And let you in on a little secret that, well, really ain’t no secret, but it’s worth the time to tell so I guess I’ll let you know that life ain’t no candy coated cupcake like momma always told, there aren’t always yeses or no’s and not everything always goes, not everybody likes you and not everybody cares, not everybody tries to make it to the top, so they just sit back while your wallets all go flop for the sake of the government that takes away the gain of busting my ass every day just so I can eat again, cuz even though my parents love me my lifestyle is affecting them although they cannot see it its eating them within, sometimes when I was younger I thought life would be so great just get my education pick a woman to be my mate, but now that I am older and been through a lot of shit I realize life ain’t easy, but, damn, it’s sure a gift, so now that you have heard, go on and fight the battle, fight the battle for your loved ones that never lived to see tomorrow, fight the battle for your sons who might one day live in a world of only sorrow, for we think it’s bad right now but we really have no clue, we have no intuition that’ll tell us what to do, cuz right now this very second there’s kids too weak to cry while their mothers hold them closely as they fade away and die, why do I forget, why do WE forget as we throw away our lunch, that sandwich tasted funny so I guess it ain’t worth my money, it rots away with yours and mine and ends up in the dumpster by the dead end sign, then later on when no ones watching a man who hasn’t had a shower in years will find something, it’s a soggy stale sandwich and an apple turning brown, but he eats it anyways because to him it makes his day, it means he doesn’t have to beg your dollar, he doesn’t have to beg for your sorrow, he doesn’t have to stare you down as you’re late to work looking in the mirror fixing your collar, you won’t find me on the street corner, no I’m sitting in my room, with my half eaten biscuit to my left and a dusty Bible to my right, and maybe, just maybe when the sun comes up tomorrow I’ll remember what I’ve told you and won’t lose the fight to hypocrisy, hypocrisy is democracy and everybody’s free, but not all are free to live the good life, two garages, two kids, and a wife… So just remember
