70 Virgins

70 Virgins for 69 thousands
68 tears 67 open mouths and
66 six is the number that we blaim
65 lives that we all could have saved
64 seconds til the clocks run out
63 dollars pull your pockets out
62 cents for a minute long call
61 seconds is a second too long
60 in a hour but its 59 left
car 58 for a jewlery store theft
On the corner of 57th and the very next block
55 injured from intentional thoughts
Plots against the masses for 54 men
Pray for dumb asses and pray for its end
53 preachers tell you 52 lies
51 pastors with 50 dollar ties
49 years of deception and deceit
It must be hopeless if we can't trust the priest
48 days at precinct 47
46 die but all dogs go to heaven?
its ten:45 and your bails been posted
44 hundred bank account toasted
43 hours at a dead end job
Makin seven.42 with a half ass boss
41 minutes til your shift gets done
40 dollars in gas for your truck to run
39 miles til the tanks gone dry
38's eleven...dealt u a snake eyes
37 36 35 34
Your runnin out of time bet you with you had more
33 32 31 caliber
30 shots 29 mad at the
Shooter but the loser at a loaded .28
Hope 27 angels plan to meet him at the gates
26 fates told you 25 times
But the buddist disagrees cuz you've got 24 lives
23 tries til you finally get it right
22 kilos when they stop you at the light
Track 21 sayin fuck the police
And your 20 years old so to say the very least
The cops r gonna beat...they gave you 19 lacerations
And they still dragged you in to the station
18 years old was the nigga in ya bunk
Told you 17 times that he aint no punk
Thuggin at 16 on a 15 dollar budget
14 inches on the benches but this nigga aint budgin
13 hail marys and 12 praise the lords
Open up your eyes your still sittin on the floor
11:10 9 guards come to ya cell
8 the prison food you aint feelin too well
The 7 deadly sins make you 6 to your stomach
but u knew it was what u really wanted
5 4 year olds with 3 little wishes
But there's only 2 left because 1's gone missing
And then there were none



I've been thinkin

So I just got off work and I'm sittin here thinkin to myself...I can't possibly be from this planet....what has gone wrong with people? They inconciderate...lazy...disrepectful...and complain waay too much...people I work with either A. Share their personal business with everyone...all the bad that's happening to them right now? They let EVERYONE know what it is going wrong why its happening and what they should do about it...and then the more people they tell the madder or sadder they get about it and it affects the way they work to the point where they handle everything without any self control. B. Complain about everything they have to do "why do I have to be here in this position when this person can do this and then I can do this" and then when they get stuck where they at anyway they either act as if they can't do the job right...or complain "I have a headache...its too cold over here...its too hot over there" until example A gets tired of subject B and puts them where they want to be. And then on top of that...the people who come in to pay us their meager dollars for us to slave away at their will...complain about everything! I mean...yes if we made it wrong bring it back I understand that but don't come in the store shouting cussing and being disrespectful...we want the same respect and gratitude u expect us to treat you with....just because we are paid to do this job and u give us your money doesn't mean we aren't people too.....that's my rant for the day...had to let it out someway or that anger builds up and gets dangerous lmao...that is all


Well.....thanx to these bitch ass pharmaceutical mothafuckin dumb ass surgeons my ankle is sore as fuck and I'm back to bein laid up and on crutches...I really hope for they sake they didmt fuck up and do somdthin wrong because if they did....they fuckin wit my money...u fux wit my money Ima fux wit yo money...I smell malpractice lmao. But seriously...so I guess now that I've been forced to slow life back down to a crawl (cuz I been workin my ass off) it won't hurt to show my blog a little more attention than I've been givin it lately...sooooo here I am twitterin and bloggin ustreamin and all that good shit lol...hope u all enjoy...and read away please its much appreciated when u come thru and read my blog but leave comments...and tell your friends...increase my site traffic please!!!


I need to write

I need...to write..but it seams my inkpens run dry
and I've depleted my paper supply
I need to type? In a world where u can sit at home and have 500 friends
I need that like...I need a hole in my head the three friends I have are to much to deal with
I need the sight to see what I may have happened to overlook...while u call niggas soft like there over cooked...knowing they're aldente but u can't stand the feeling...so you tumble like the tallest of buildings
I need...the flight of these lucky birds that can reach the tallest hights...but if I were a bird I couldn't right...
And I need to write...cuz when the emotions have no where to go...I cut loose and let my pen flow
I need the night...the darkness that hides our flaws...and the new clothes hide our scars...the welts and bruised skin from the troubles of life...
I need night but I need the light...because we all stumble when the darkness is upon us...but the footlamp will guide or way down the unbeaten path...the road less travled...
I need the right...to say what it is I please be it on paper with ink or my lips..when I think..I've said to much...or shown much to be seen...that's when I change the scene
I need to wipe clean the slate of those before me that wrong me and cursed my name...for it weren't all in vain...that had purpose..desire to see me press forward...to my dreams as opposed to their mass production..
I need to bite down into my apple of life...enjoy the supple juices and the bruised skin...because there is no taste sweeter than that of living as opposed to those living a lie who live with the taste of sulfur upon there tongues
I need to write...well type...but my space has run out....I guess that just means...now you need to READ


Confessions of an abandoned paintbrush

I use to be his tool...boy I was such a fool...cuz he hit an urban school and discovered a little newness...the beats..the breaks...the sound of the 808s seems the poor boy discovered hip hop music he slowly begins to lose it...from paintbrush and pastels to spraycans and ink pens he thinks in a different hue from the color he used to see in...portraits they turn to graffiti...and now he's constantly beating...on the table tops "tap tap tap" his poetry has turned to rap his tones are harsh and vibrant...instead of smooth and violet...from silent calm and peaceful to rowdy rough and violent...he paints but its just not the same...he pays me no attention his spray can held in one hand I can only help but listen...as he freestyles to the nothingness...just the quiet beat of an urban street...gun shots sirens children cryin...flatfoots told to beat their feet....I stop..I weep...I realize the artistry it still survives....but no one every loves an artist....well that is until we die