Attached

Mentalities relapsed+


Bloody scars that painted my
Knuckle+

War paint
Cuddles my face
I’m black and I’m
Proud+

From the
Feet to the root canal+


A tramatic opposite+


I linger in blank expression+


Eyes wide open+

without
No type of emotions+


Poker face here+

Not bluffing+

No room for let downs or
believing in something+

my
Own mental distruction+


Nothing+

It’s nothing+


Living in hell I’m use to the most, beautiful, rotton+

Sweet sorrows+

I Embraced
The reason its not to be chased+


The heathen+

“Why We Shoot Back”

Insanity…….

10 yr old grown men….

10yrs later…

10 become ten men…

10 out of 10, only 4 of them left..

10 year to life, some in prison for…

10 years dead or…

10 years in the feds…

4 of those 10 are left…

Those 4 even did time in prison…

For crimes they didn’t even commit…

Set up by police so it’s nothing to
Shoot back at them, before they kill
Us.

Can’t go no where, poverty issues so my family stuck.

Continuing to live life like no human being would ever want….

Never want…

As I yelled out!

“FUCKING KILL ME! I AINT GOT
SHIT TO LOSE!”

Shot down from the head, to the shoes, no one would even give a damn over lives we’d lose.

Only God knows the pain….

Of a short fuse…

As electricity cracks in the rain….

Leaving the brain to forever sink in blues…

Baltimore City Homes

Guess where I’m from…

Cold like Goldie pimps and police… I morn over the men and women I grew up with… Even the paroles, please give me time to breathe, while I bleed… Out… On the street… Blood thickness glazed over where the children play over… It… Kick starts into Pre-kindergarten… In the picture was a deadly grim scene behind me… Like the president behind the podium… Corruption… Trying to get by under poverty so I… Robbed, stolen and sold like how the country was formed… What was mine today… Only time and God can say when it’s my time… So, while I live on… In this snow storm of fire… Im design for hellish climate… My life means nothing yet… I will surely stand up for progress… Nothing provided… Prisoners with in a project lab rat shit… Are in the city making noise like a helicopter crash, clash of insanity from my past… Creeping up on my future fuck it…. Lets go out and play in bullet rain… Aim, pull it, aim… Is the forecast for today… Showers propel back until a quiet silence… Till someone falls, no spring ups… Summer into winters dinner has none….

Sun Of Anubis

Thee Afro-Saudi etched in my blood…

On one side damn…

I’m eight sides of a sun…

Rocking rays on my feet…

Stepping into heat…

 

A Pen knife…

In the sharpest form…

Playing bent…

I know…

You dont…

 

A hunter that hunts bullies…

Bullies the bullies with fullys…

Then skin graph echos across your…

Door panel’s and leather seats…

Smoking!

I don’t think you here me…

 

Running chains like pin head…

I raisimg hell…

Crescent beaming off the sun…

Smoking the skin of Anubis…

How Do You Say I’m A Fuck Up?

Im…

Coo Coo for coca leaves…

Ghettos cenderellas…

Shopping sprees…

Plea bargins under 18 months…

Oxycodone…

Paper cuts…

Times in times out…

When the Feds jumped out…

We jump in…

Rounded up like pigs…

From the pigs…

To the Fed pen…

Dolomite…

Minus the pimping…

With a pistol and a can of sprite…

Smoked like a black in mild…

Mildly blacked, from pistol burns..

When it rains your bone ache…

Failing life…

Born a mistake…

Progress burned at the steak…

Lies cut deeper then surgical blades…

Swollen hatred revolved the…

Staff infections…

Infecting the life of a passionless…

Nevermind…

Stay on task with this…

If you give me light…

I’ll spark this temporary liberty…

Tiger Fist

Names quiet…

Rained on the riot…

Toppless on windshields…

Land O Lakes in the pockets…

Shoes made out of ostrich…

Oh!

Take them off!

Don’t touch the mystery…

Unsolved…

If they catch you…

Don’t mention the mobb…

Creep down on plush…

Mink coats with 8ths of dust…

Let them get some…

Feel the corse…

A race trap in the voice…

Kidnapping and Extortion…

Ransom note bloody…

Pieces of mayflower sent…

Later on when it pours…

Cuffs on the wrist…

Toe tags found…

Body bags in the river…

fresh timber in the oven…

Back home with no discussion…

 

 

Please! Don’t Read This! This Is The Worst Shit I’ve Ever Wrote

Ya I cursed! Violent talks and walks through the dust storms. I love all of your positive speeches. I love all of your pictures of Sandy beach’s. I dug a bullet out of his chest with a steak knife and my finger nails. I know I ain’t shit and I never will be so don’t have pitty for me just listen to me. What? I bet you just think I’m downing myself. Just check my track record or Google misery. I was sixteen the first time I snorted a brown dream. I’m sorry but everything just can’t be perfect in your life! Or is it? Maybe you never had to steal to feed your siblings. I’m not hating! I’m glad you can take trips. I can’t cuz I have felonies so I can’t get a passport. The good old USA…. FUCK DONALD TRUMP AND THE KKK!!!!! Racist to me just because I’m black watching neo Nazis March on Washington D.C…… What the fuck is going on! Hold up! I fucked up… This was suppose to be positive. What I wrote was suppose to make you see who I really am… Or some shit! Fuck it… I fucked up again and again, and again and again…. Filled caskets while you sat home cozy hand crafting wicker baskets. I’ll just watch the pictures of you going to college or graduating or some shit. I’m sincerely glad that you made it. On the flip side where I reside prison pictures in the yard with other inmates for making chancey mistakes. Oh fuck! Is chancey a word? I don’t care…. It will be today! I made being me fashionable. You stole it to perpetrate. If you really knew how we live across the train tracks. You would shed a tear for every time I gotten booked for a misdemeanor charge went to bail review and got a no bail then got sent back to jail to rot in hell. Anyway… I’m so proud of you and your remarkable success… For real! I’m not hating at all! I guess we all went to jail because we didn’t want to starve. My mother was just happy that I survived in there all…. That’s it…. If you got questions… No comment! The 5th!

1/17

Embracing The Footsteps Of A Royal Bloodline

Hood royalty…

I had to find my feet. Match up with defeat as a youngster. Fight after fight after fight. I was a small child. Losing every fight horribly. No matter how scared, beaten and brused I got right back up and moved on. Later on in life I would find out that I was litterally the golden child of a royal hood family. Everybody knew my family but me.

A strong respect was formed some years ago by my family in the city and prison systems. Earned by paying dues from actions of pure strength, inteligence and power. When I grew to my teenage years I could see the staring of people in the block and Damn near every where I went. I could even here some of there words. I ain’t going to lie. I felt like a young Hollywood star.

Every older person knew me before I even knew myself and what I was capable of. When I had advanced to my late teenage years to my early twenties. Most of my royal family were incarcerated, on the run from authorities, strung out on dope or just plain old vision out of sight. I got older and realized that I wasn’t young no more. I’ve gotten way bigger and way more aggressive and thorough never losing fights anymore. Truthfully no loses taken. No matter what weapons or weak strategies that were used by my foes.

I ran with… Stood up to the worst of the worst till everyone respected my very presents. I felt like the Prince of my kingdom. It was then when I found out who I really was. A warrior!

A true warrior with the bloodline of famous men. Real stand up brick wall sculptures of hood royalty. There statues still remain till this day. No one in the city could ever surpass them no matter how much work they put in…..

Finding A Way To Calm The fury With In

I’m still trying to recover…

Im still trying to get right…

I’m still falling.

Trying to grab a hold of the new ages.

A unfinished prototype of a man with no feeling and no compassion trying to transition to a normal future! Interactional and compatible rearranging my thoughts into love and not flames.                                                          I won’t go to far. Medicating between Wellbutrin and Bupropion. Sertraline to walk the type rope to hope. Please don’t fall… Hoping to God when I’m in public that know one bumps into me or look me in my eyes a certain way.                                    They say I’m fucked up… Seroquel won’t even put me to sleep. My mind skips a beat sometimes when I hear old songs. Triggering flash backs of a savage nostalgia.                                                             A child that knew no real punishment untill I met the true devil.

I don’t go far… No mirrors, pictures or clippers to shape my life up. Cutting off the ties of the guys that I once looked up to as a child.                                                 Now all dead and gone or getting high somewhere strung out creeping through the back Windows stealing only to satisfy there drug apitites.                            Some of them are doing maximum time behind the iron bars or on death row awaiting to die slow.

Can someone tell me the reason for a prison sentence of life plus 75 years? Do you have to die twice in order to come home and see your kids?

This is the prototype of a man Trying to transition.

The Bad Old Days

Been giving out free caskets since I could remember.

Ive been cornered by the government and came out swinging.

Life wasn’t like a box of chocolates so you can save that fairytale shit.

I watched fiends in the hallways light up the bottom of spoons.

Water on the stove boiling pots dropping ones and twos.

Teenage killers with automatic pistols laying you in the ground just for your shoes.

If you were light than your pockets got ripped off with claws sharper than my dress code.

If you were weak then you would fail your class for life sleeping.

If you were strong then you got welcomed with open scars.

No food and no lights on at home.

Breaking and entering…

Home invasions…

I guess you done got sick of starving.

Getting older taking over drug infested corners for power and order.

No more boiling hot dogs until they split.

No more can goods or food stamps yet our occupations ain’t legit.

Ma ma don’t cry…

Tears get wiped from her face and eyes.

No one ever wanted to take that test.

I’ve been giving out free caskets until there weren’t any left.

Better re-up……,