Is he I...or am I He
For no longer can I be...
See I was born to the street and raised on the fruit of my additions
it took me in and out of strange places
introduced me to strange colored faces
black and white
it made me grow to love the nightlife that thrives
so long as you've got the cash to be part of the caste
so when my cash got low
I reduced my hits to smaller lines
oh how I was blind
but not so blind as last year when I had unprotected sex
and found myself one foot out of the grave
yes HE told me, that it was I that had....
see the word still lingers on our minds even when we don't speak them
so small yet powerful a thing
it takes you to places you fear
leaves you alone in small rooms along with your doom
it breathes that low tone
removes black kings from thrones
but it doesn't lie to you
the truth it stands and faces you
even vows to break you
and although there is a God in the sky called Survivor
it doesn't speak to him anymore either
because it took his life last year
and although he went without fear for 5 years
it still killed him in his sleep
no longer does he weep for death
because it the coldest mountains of despair
when no one else is there it shows it true face
and although it was born to replace the love that my God promised
the Love that takes a blind eye to the straight guy
He has no mercy
please don't let me be misunderstood
He has no mercy because He kills
I have no worries when I kill
for I have no conscious or reason
it's a sense of right and wrong turned topside
I glide
through tomorrow wondering when its my time
and I come face to face with my life
so I write my eulogy down to remind me that
it can happen to me just like it did Easy E
only there is no Doctor Dre by my side when I die
just tears from my mothers eyes who wanted more from me
than to die before her
wanted more from me than to become another statistic we all fear
more than men fear nightsticks and women fear big dicks
she wanted life for me
and it costs her her heath
for she couldn't understand why oh why
so I shrug and grin and put on the straight face
hoping to remind her that I am still her little boy
beautiful with a strong face
and shall remain so so long as I remember to strap it up
and tie a knot on the end of my protection
for it is not about my 9.5 inches of erection
that makes me a man to a woman
but the life that I live....
that makes me a man to He
so I live it best
not like Russian Roulette
because the tick, tock
is really a cocked Glock
see maybe you can ignore one night of passion once it passes
but like DNA it always leaves behind stains on your windshields
that you cant wash clean with vinegar and water
like Sodom and Gamora
death was creeping around the corner in white face
with blond hair and blue eyes
it was the enemy with thick thighs and a nice ass like sisters pack
ordering her rum and coke and watching all the brothers watch her from the back
while all of the sisters who wouldn't talk to him in his wildest dream
now giving him a look like he cleaned the rifle that killed Martin Luther King
so now is he the I...or am I he?
so now are you the I....or are you.....Me
you see sober tomorrows can no longer wait for you to catch up to HIM
and by then...its too late
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