Photo by Kayla Reefer.
They try to get scheme us,
Most rappers want to be us,
Look at the silver platters they feed us,
Media receivers, sick of you divas,
I’m in the land of cedars, prayers for Jesus,
Ramadan God Islam in my thesis,
I had to fold the hand cause the cards had creases,
And just to be a man I look into the eyes of my Nieces,
Please believe this is nothing more than treatise,
between angels and demons, clear the precinct,
these birds diggin in my chest like Prometheus,
I know I’ve reached the end of my experiences when
debating against my self becomes tedious,
and the flavors are lackluster for lacking all the proper ingredients,
I offer my obedience, nothing more, nothing less, can we learn to agree to this?
There’s no question really I’ve already reached the abyss,
I’m on the highway to hell, you need a lift? I’m starting to become sleepless,
so I pray for the nightmares to cease and desist, I’m the creme and the crisp,
following philosophies of Fredrick List…
Love making would only be,
A dream for two, me and you,
We’ll wash and bathe in sea of hues,
The shades of passion, reds and blues.