Written for Lucky and Wayne
So many friends with a letter, Life,
It is what it is, but it sho aint nice
Death by increments, no parole, the Doc plan.
We can rap it or rhyme it, but who'll lend a hand?
Who'll put some flowers on Ms Flossy's grave?
Who'll teach Lil Momma how to behave?
Who'll take a grandchild shopping for school?
Or even apply the Golden Rule?
Life, who really cares?
Words are cheap and seldom true,
But love speaks volumes, you know what to do,
Procrastinate, prevaricate,
Posthumous accolades? Please, give me a break
Dudes be faking, lames galore
Youth be still, elders to the fore
Usher a generation thru freedom's door
Stop spitting idle rap, united we can do much more
Call it like you see it champ
Homeless spoken words, abandon like a tramp
Eyes wide open yet we're still sleeping.
We say we're conscious, huh, our ancestors are weeping.
Bake a cake and light the candles, the birth of a new day.
God is the Judge, He has the final say.
From prison to the promised land. Let the whole world know.
Tell Pharoah, "Let my people GO!!"
Michael P
Copyright © 2010
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