Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 3:02 — 3.8MB)
This is a audio blog post – partial transcription below
It’s ya boy Silence, silenciobarnes whatever whatever
September 9th 2008 – 9:30 pm
Da usual – bored, broke and sober
Went to New York over the weekend
Saw my peoples
Got reminded of exactly where it was I came from
You know
Like
Dreams disappearing,
fiends just appearing out of thin white smoke And they need what you giving but you need what they giving
Hamiltons, Jacksons, Grants, Franklins thank for the business
12 and thirteen -
young adult girls but they think they grown women And they shaped like grown women –
Desire turn to sex, sex turns to life and the babies having babies and they think they have feelings
For a nigga that think he a killa, Think he a grown ass man and he think he a dealer
but really he just trapped in a river, Called life where he born in a place that traps him forever Cause he can’t see past what he isn’t
Then ends life trapped in a prison maybe not the kind with the bars but he still can’t forget that he feels life HAS to forgive him
But that’s the same dude I grew up with I have to forgive him cause I came from the same type of vision
The same life the same hopes the same passion same cryogenics, frozen having sex with the same kind of mistress
We call her death she bears witness to this crazed type of living
May life bless and raise our children – cause it seems that we can’t really raise our own limits
We Can’t fly
No related posts.
