options

Spittin’ mad rhymes
Collectin’ those crimes
You gonna drop those dimes
Or do hard times
In prison.

Not much you can do
Get shot comin’ thru
Ain’t nothin’ new
Y’all wish it wasn’t true
Somebody listen.

Poor people
Everywhere
Dyin’ in the streets
Dyin’ for care
God Bless America.

Where’s God in this?
Is He at the bottom line?
Did they leave Him out?
The last thing on their mind.
Is Charity.

Broken homes
Thrown stones
Bloody bones
Dead-eye drones
Killin’ us.

When you die
Is less of the concern
How you die
Is the screw they turn
Twisted.

Poison the water
Poison the food
Poison the thinking
And attitude
Of the very people you’re killin’.

Don’t play this game
Don’t hang that frame
Don’t take that name
Recalibrate your aim
Get out.

I did.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s