if wishes were horses i’m riding to the heavens
for a last cypher with my brethren
i be tired i be desperate 
Morena knows i be fighting with vices that blemish my soul

and i know, i be stepping on a crooked path
where a goodie goodie wouldn’t last 
i’m from a town where you gotta pusha spane till it pushes back
typa shit to have you shook if you’re mooshy

i just blaze kush to have a nap 

cause i can’t sleep
bad dreams popping to the surface like it’s acne
the evils is calling loud, and sadly
we can’t keep our hands clean maybe there’s a B

stampede in my mind has got me frustrated
part of me wants the other wants changes
either way i could die bleeding from a thugs shanking
or what the plug gave him

so fuck patience! 

i don’t want a halo
i want the piff giving wings to a kasi angel
to fly away these dire days are often fatal

this typa game’s is quite strange

the pace can take a nigga out quick
trapped niggas trapping others in the township
it is what it is, don’t you ever ask me howzet

better move in silence even if you pack the loudest
or get pounded for the weight by the foul pigs
countless others are still drowning
but Babi told me, ‘keep hope if your heart’s still pounding…’

Je $uis Prometheus