This Ain’t prophesy, but its what I C

From 2005

It’s unreal they way we sit still
As they close in for the kill
It’s unreal
But you see
We waste time seeking thrills
And as I said in my poem,9-1-1
This is not a drill
In 1992 we all got fooled
By a dope dealer named Bill
Who spent eight years having both friends and enemies killed
“W”, just sends them to the killing fields
But hiz-story has revealed
Both parties rob, butcher, and steal
Yet we lack both political skill or the collective will
To successfully learn the art of a deal
But that hasn’t kept our leaders from their
Five course meals,

Which brings me to the case of
Government agent 666 -
And hears my “message” to that black man

A few years ago
I witnessed your tearful mea culpa on 60 Minutes
But for me it failed to diminish
Your role in brother Malcolm’s untimely finish
A bloody blemish
Remains
An ugly stain
A sold out soul
But to what gain?
So that 30 years later
A Million men could march
For your glory, your honor and your fame?
You got misguided soldiers worshiping a fraudulent name
Too busy hustling pies to
Peep game
Or so they claim
But I think it is it fear of reprisals
That has them restrained
Like Pavlov’s dogs
Conditioned and trained
Freed from prison -
But still in chains
If they only knew

If they only knew

That now a black demon has replaced a white one
And at the end of the day
Only the shackles have changed

And it’s uncanny
To say the least
But I don’t get it twisted when I see the beast
Because I know its now no longer men in sheets
That are the sole source of our grief
Our city streets
Are terrorized by red and blue beefs
And 100 thousand saints on Sunday
With their bibles, faith and belief
Don’t bring peace
But get fleeced
Because apparently Salvation ain’t cheap
Even liquor stores, pimps and hustlers find it hard to compete
With a misinterpreted scripture
That keeps a nation asleep
We worship the lamb
But bow down like sheep

I wonder if the objective
Of the pastor’s directives
Is to maintain a slumbering collective
You see
Penitentiary minds
Distorts our perspective
And though its been suggested
But not requested
I wonder if
Our own 9/11 would bring us justice?
Or as Richard Pryor once said
just us
But we have 2 much reverence
And show too much deference
To do any thing that would stress em
Test em
But god bless em
We’ll be brothers and sisters in heaven
Rignt?
But it’s the heaven on earth that we ignore
And clearly our intent
is not to restore

Like an aging lion without a roar
Each day becomes a chore
Since in 2009 our image in the mirror
we still fail to adore
Trust and believe
The food will always taste better
From the masters floor
We peer through closed doors
Trusting those whose duplicity
And tacit complicity,
But seekers and lovers of their own publicity
Yet it’s our divinity
Not another Kennedy
That will provide us
With a true and last remedy
But we spend our energy
Supporting thieves
As we believe
Whatever foolishness is up their sleeve
Whether brilliant fucked up or ill conceived
While a mad man
Commander and chief
Makes decisions based on greed
But plants the seeds
For more destruction
And deadly deeds
And when it comes?

When it comes
Hundred million of us are guaranteed to bleed
And it won’t be over yet
Because karmic justice responds in threes
In 2001 we responded in arrogance
Refusing to heed
But once again America – and her allies
The writing is on the wall
But can we and will we read?

This ain’t prophesy, but its what I C