Aspiration; that’s what floods my concentration.
Elevation; trying to awaken the whole nation.
Infiltration; into the minds of every race and
variations of speech and deliberation.
But one nation is what I preach to the congregation
on every station; Latin, Asian and even Haitian.
Maturation; is what we need for propagation.
A saturation of love with no hesitation.
And this equation is what will end the condemnation
of God’s creation and bring us to that culmination.
Our graduation; into peace. Get in formation.
Our situation calls out for this salutation.
This information is given out with calculations.
That our nation will finally rise to the occasion
and a celebration will be in order for the duration
of procreation, giving birth to inspiration…
Strangers become family and family becomes strangers.
You better read the warning signs to learn about the dangers,
of lettin’ hatas in your circle. They can leave your soul ill.
Peckin’ at your happiness, like buzzards on some road kill.
Give you a raw deal and leave you with your ass out.
Bunny ear your pockets, so you better never pass out.
So many enemies, got a lot of enemies
and it seems that most of them happen to be kin to me.
Damn man, silly me… I thought blood was the thickest,
but when it comes to playin’ games, blood is the slickest.
Magicians; oh how they trick us, fuck us over and dick us.
But we didn’t pick our families, the dirty bastards picked us.
I tell them all to kick dust, God is all that I trust.
If it’s me against the world, I promise I will adjust, giving no more fuss.
Whatever is dealt, I’m a take it…
Plus I’ve learned that family is what you make it.
Friend or foe, who will ever know how to pick em’
A stash of butcher knives, in your back is where they stick em’.
So give me two or three that’s down for me, and I can handle that.
I finally see the light; so here, you can have your candle back…
People say that we can never live forever, but forever I will hold you.
Deep within my soul, wish I was there to console you.
My heart sheds many tears and many wounds still remain,
but I understand that God had to steal you from your pain.
Will things ever be the same, without your laughter and your wit?
I bet you’re talking Prince’s ear off, probably giving him a fit.
You were a force to be reckoned with, that we can admit.
But your company was grand, for many hours we could sit.
Ups and downs we experienced and hard roads we traversed.
But I already miss you yelling, “Get my make-up bag out of my purse”.
Strong willed and strong minded, pure power in your essence.
Now I long for the chance to spend an hour in your presence.
But your life is not yet over; it’s time for you to get your wings,
then fly as high as they will take you and let the heavens sing.
Yes, I’m going to miss you mama, that’s a fact that can’t be missed.
But I know God called you home, because you’re the next angel on His list…
What happens when you lock a man in a cage with rage
flowing through his blood stream?
Doves cry, but have you ever heard a thug scream?
Silohuettes of a shadowless soul.
Hearts no longer beat, they’ve become calloused and cold.
Grab a hold of some narcotics and some counterfeit love.
Them lonely nights, you don’t know what it does.
But, above all else you try lovin’ yourself.
While nobody gives a damn about you; yelling for help.
Death is no longer an illusion, the intrusion is real.
This pain will soon or later heal.
That’s a delusion you feel, you turn your spirit into steel.
While emotions deflate, God won’t let you through those gates
with all that anger and hate.
So, quickly meditate and find that balance within.
That humble pie gets mixed in with some malice and sin.
But, then again, whats the use of even fighting the abuse?
That is when your grip gets loose and you call it a truce.
Doing everything you can not to hang yourself in a noose…