Though I try to rely on my spiritual side
the physical always is what materialize;
caught up in the rapture
a born again bastard
trapped living inside mental madness
knowing this is not how the Most High planned it;
bagging for redemption,
but haters keep catching my prayers before they make it upstairs;
It's hard not to care when our people live,
sleep,
and wake to despair;
but are too unaware
that it's happening underneath our hair;
poverty is hidden in plain sight
but the shades we wear to block the sun
only keeps us from truly embracing the Father's light;
Our plight has itched at my skin
sense before human's first sin,
us killing us,
wars domestic and abroad
directly next door to us;
it's a tragedy to view a Earthly society
so hell bent on frivolous
rivalries and
fighting for the largest salaries
while the heathens senselessly
slay one another in the streets;
I've heard Martin turn the other cheek
and they still shot him down like a dog on the balcony;
I've seen three people that look like me
assassinate Malcolm X right in front of his family
and they expect me to believe that he was wrong in speaking
by ANY MEANS NECESSARY;
it's extraordinary when the Lion has the gun
and is no longer worried;
oh they label that talk REVOLUTIONARY;
so when humans wake up
Our numbers will be TOO MANY to bury quietly
inside the library