The pages of time intertwine inside my
cerebral mind, confined to a lifetime
of crime, where I hustle for green,
so my seeds can eat, but I can't afford
for my Queen to see the way I clocks my cream;
if she knew she would most definitely leave,
pack her things and flee,
so I remain laying low, no show with snow
cooked into crack, slang smack out the back,
and gathers my cash in the front,
no stunts even though cops constantly hunt
my scent, however the herbal essence consumes
my presence, concealing my layer,
home of the horizontal slayer,
vagina decapitator, number one numerator,
prime time debater, Black revolution liberator,
known for famous oration;
built to speak but it doesn't cover the bills,
so at night I pray for another murder, death, kill;
soul corrupt and spirit purged as I stray
further and further from the shepherds herd;
my vision is blurred as I guzzle suds on the curb,
speech slurred as I preach to misguided kids,
thinking they've seen and know the game, but
die for early fame, not overstanding the truth
of the flames;
once you've entered a killers mind frame,
the only way out is death,
no longer able to back track your steps;
learn to live with past regrets;
so to ease the stress you pick up the buddha bless,
to break away from your life's mess,
tired of waking from cold sweats in the middle
of undetermined dreams, unable to think clearly,
trapped in a zone of repeated misery,
can't stop history, but you can rewrite your
story;
acquire some discipline, don't indulge in criminal
mischief, pray everyday, and sun's shine will guide
your way;
it doesn't happen over night, so be patient,
and you will find that what you once were,
will come back to your spirit, jump back on track,
or continue the self-destruction route and end up
with slugs leaking your life fluid until your last
breath is just an allusion;
wake dreaming for elusion from the evils and demons
of your soul;
wake before it's too late for you to change your fate!
