22 February 2013
The dead on the streets; heads at my feet; I’ve read this rap sheet and now I’m trapped in this beat; sapped strength in this heat; fire in my hands; ire in my plans; kill the liar of these lands; Broken bones; echoes, moans, groans this pain we don’t condone; so listen to me; These sins will not atone for eternity; don’t hang up the phone; we’ll be free; and turn you to stone like Medusa you’ll see; or not; get it? I’m hot of the press; read it? Don’t fret it; Take a guess; you’re my guest in this house of hell; at your best but I can’t tell; forget it; have a rest after you’ve fell; from invincibility; there’s no redemption; there no exemption or exception for your loss of credibility; I question your ability to lead; your sensitivity to those who bleed; your sensibility and your cruelty to those who pray and plead; to those who lay down and heed the warning you gave; they’re mourning the grave; a morning that’s saved and stuck in my mind; if I had luck, I would be blind; to these crimes but its stuck in rewind and I watch it time and time again; my only friend’s this rhyme I write with my pen; I write songs; I right wrongs; I fight long; you’re sight’s gone; choose knight or pawn; check mate chess on this map; and you dictate handicap; hate is my trap; this truth is fate in my rap; screams fall on deaf ears; dreams mauled into red fears; Alive in these dead years; I strive for justice amongst my dead peers;
Im going to go sky high and I dont mean weed; Im goin to rise to the occasion and lead these people against this corrupted creed; this uninterupted deed; theyre all shut up and bleed into the ground; unfounded how much they scream; dumbfounded is this a dream some sort of gleam or glimmer; this is the win of the sinner; the sin of the winner; and we freeze like its winter; a splinter of thier pleas reach me; and I will breach thee in your therapy; I will teach you the lesson of my people; confess your sins in front of this steeple; congress is in a pitfall; my guess its a deep hole; a peep hole lets us see what you creeps stole from your very own people; an autocratic crackhead behind the stage; a democratic's racked dead for all his age; this is the tall tale of my rage; wise words of the sage; cries sheep in his daze Cries himself to sleep all his days; Ive tried to help the weak in my ways but they just weep as they pray
Vigilante • Opuss № I