Untitled...

"Night Blows, Stoves don't work, Hoes at work
A warrior, so I wear M.O. on my shirt
Wishin I was free as Che was,I spend a day buzzed
Trippin on heights, wishin for Nikes in different flavors
The age of Kane and Big Daddy,short body caddies
Uncles named Larry, that never really grabbed me
My mother gave birth but she really never had me
Left to the hood to play daddy
Raised by niggaz named Butch, Poo, and Bebe
With weight so they weigh they/status on the streets
License plates that say they, motto/This is Chicago in the hey day
Similiar to Good Times, I guess that I was Jay Jay
A skinny nigga, young girls with penny figures
So many niggaz, stacked upon each other
It's the black upon each other that we love so much
Wonder how many of us, is drugs gonna touch
Used to gangbang, ain't really thug that much
Rather have some thick broads and a dutch to clutch
Went to school in Baton Rouge for a couple of years
My college career got down with a couple of peers
Came back home, now I gotta pay back loans
Same nigga, same block, same shit they own
Only thing different, quicker, they click that chrome
In my defense, yo I had to hit that zone
Man to man, I'm good workin with my hands
My generation never understood workin for the man
And, of bein broke I ain't a fan
Now I stand in the same spot, as my old man
My life I planned not to be on this corner
I still wanna see California
But this is my world"

-Common on "It's Your World" from the Be Album

I find myself understanding the stances of those who came before me now...
Praying that their words will push me forward now...
I'm realizing that I'm writing my life away for the purpose of fighting another day and saving maybe just one person anyway...
See, my pages are rigid and I have to bend metaphors back over them sometimes just to get my thoughts out...
My pen is similar to a water spout because it never stops flowing...even when you silence me
The powers that be have tried and it honestly/Only made me fight more vehemently/Seeking a title that I will probably never see...
Call me the greatest/similar to Jack Dempsey
Scratch That/Jack Johnson/
A man who couldn't stand to be released of his own vices/
Falling victim to the wiles of women and taxes like Mike Tyson/
I am the Champ/If we're going by that standard/
Already been branded a miscreant/
Reveling in being a pariah/Enjoying too much being a misfit/
This shit/ain't no coincidence...
If you think I'm spitting this/for my own benefit/
You may be missing the point of it/I know a few of you cats feel like this/
Verbalism is heaven sent/Drive to thrive/Relentless/But opportunities/are slim and thinning
So I write/because it's all I can do to get me through the days of peacelessness/
A future filled with uneasiness/
A life filled with stomachs and pockets plagued by emptiness/
These are the wages of the ambitious/
Seeking truth and finding life to be vicious/
So continue to tell me how hard life is...
I'll tell you how real the struggle is...
How many of my niggas is hustling...
How 9 out of 10 of my ex students only see rappin/basketball/or thuggin'
As a way out of it/


Tell me that It's My World...
I'll tell you I believe it...
Because I'm trying my hardest
EVERY DAMN DAY to make sure these children are achieving...
Their dreams...
The hell with mine...
I live for them...