Monday, January 13, 2014

Howard St Part 2

(Krosswordze Verse)

/Where I'm from, the lights aren't as bright as I'd like them/
/ So the rhymes have more life when I write them/
Tell the truth to you/ Impale the truth thru you/ See this is "me shit", not "hard to see shit"/ Dig up the root to you/ From all the nights of hearing fight over the money for bills/ It's no wonder I'm not mentally ill/ So I essentially feel/ That the place is what makes you/ And it's what shapes you/ It's shit you're gonna be/ Not what you want to be/ That's mighty dumb of me to think/ Hope would come from me/ Any hood has problems/ But I gotta deal with them/ Spectate or participate/ Or you just live with them/ Come out a rose or decompose/ That's the hard part of it/ You've got be smart of it/ And this is home of the heart of it/ Regardless of the hardness of all the shit that I am scarred with/ And that's why I started it/ I could be a part of it/ Now I'm taking 'part the shit/


(Walter Kronkite Verse)

Mother’s drugged out, throwing shit on the lawn
Any kind of decency’s been long gone
They try to tell me cocaine is a hell of a drug
But crack’s where it’s at where I grew up
Any role model that wasn’t biting a pipe,
Was one with anger issues that just hated life?
At least more than twice I’ve had a guy pull a knife
You better walk away before I catch a contact high
Karma’s a motherfucker, that’s why I wear a rubber
I always sport a raincoat in any kind of weather
Looking back in the past, still can’t laugh
/It’s like smelling garbage after taking out the trash/
/I remember many lessons way before my time/
/Like the color the water changes after you drop your dime/
/Never got money or clothes from any a list/
/I guess I’ll make due til cheap gets me famous/


(Crocker Verse)

/See that paint chip, faucet leaks drop/ Curled up, denim coat and some worn Reebok's/ The cold makes the bone chill, won't cease. Stop!/ Try to numb with dollar-beer, feel your right knee lock/ Ain't shaved in months, Shower, forget it!/ Last meal, a Debbie cake, can coke, and come chips and/ Didn't settle shit, hear your stomach a bitchin'/ Thinking of your family and the tear in the stitchin'/ Gave careless forgiveness for the prayer that you'd listen/ Unaware of tradition, and the ware that you're fixed in/ Feel that roach crawl, feelin' despair/ Hell you'd cry again, but who would hear you or care?/ Those stains on your pipe, went and painted your soul/ Disengaged, been afraid, down in a hole/ In control, out control, hopin' you fold/ Death'd be release, hell's suffering old/

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