Thought I told you. It’s a whole process you gotta go through. Not just dropping vocals over old school chops that were hot and soulful. It’s that makes sense, yet it reflects life, so it’s not supposed to. That virtual tech to surf on the net and search in the web. That verbal Tourettes with every curse I project. That certain bet they’re sure to forget each word you said after I murder the set. Asking why the fuck haven’t guys heard of ‘em yet? Learn to listen. Words of wisdom. Purpose driven. Perfect diction. No work of fiction. No perk addiction. No stint served in prison for murder victims until I slice you right off top of the head like a circumcision. I out shine on Collabos. In battle I’d out rhyme you. What? You thought you’d copy that guy ’till a scout finds you? They watch you public wrecks like rubber-necks clogging traffic. Once your spectators pass, you’re automatically stuck in debt. Offense intended. Disrespect meant for corrupt execs of upper-deck record labels. I’ll never make it. I’m independent. I reckon your mob contract belongs back in your rectum. Every statement I make is no less than blatant. No hesitation. No toxic humor. Stop the rumors. I’d have dropped this sooner, but got bored recording for ordinary Hip-Hop consumers. Understand. I held a gun. Uncle Sam stuck one in my hands. So, if murder, kill, kill is what they want, fuck your fans. Somebody hold my beer. We’ll go right here. I stand out like a lightbulb and you got no idea. Walt disney rat bastards. Bad actors turned half-hazard wack rappers. This industry is all pretty ass backwards. Part of it’s still in me. Harbored it willfully. Any spark of humility becomes a disregarded soliloquy. Anybody smart enough will agree, I’ve got re- markable skill and a ghost writer’s marketability. Started as a gospel rapper. That apostle pastor ran through pentecostal ass faster than a velociraptor. Then hit the brothel, after. Enough with the ad-libs. You bad kids are getting shook worse than my dad did. The man had pure intentions. This pair of active battery cables at your capillaries are there to grab your attention. Then increase the pressure. Let the speech professor piece together a decent lecture before these MFers OD on that E for effort.

I intend to be great, but is anyone making a trip and attending the wake if I die? I need a friend to relate not a fan to be fake. To take wind out of my sails and steal my thunder. Holding ‘em down while they held me under. Some sell, some buy, some barter stolen hearts and souls charred in cole, then barred to be bought and sold. When the well runs dry dark and cold. They won’t tell us why. They’ll just try to sell some lie con-artists told. Calculative how to move with very protective sense of where I invest care and attention. There is no question, salary is barely incentive for spiting valuable gifts shared in this nightmarish reality lived. Only my closest homies remotely know me. those who opposed me can go stroke their own supposed dopest local emcee trophy they hold so closely. Then proceed to the nose bleeds. No seats. No one’s true to their word. They’ll stab you in the back. I don’t move with the herd or travel in a pack. A man without a face is a man with a thousand ways to walk amongst you. Off-putting, but never out of place. Losing peace of mind? Use a piece of mine. This outlook is bigger than what’ll sound good at the recent time. Contrary to the redundancy, these idiots are aren’t savants. Bunch of oxymorons who prolly call paradoxes ironic. I move in silence no matter how loudly you speak. Somehow the cowards who beat me while I was down and weak are nowhere to be found now that I’m back around to my feet, standing proud. Surrounded by sheep you couldn’t count on for sleep. Rules don’t need apply. Disguised wolves posing in sheep’s wool clothing pulled over the eyes of those who uphold the lies. Ain’t your fault. It’s the fools that trained your thought. So go ahead and take this title brain wave with a grain of salt. I’m here to grind the smear campaigns to mere sand grains until brand name is all you racketeers can change. If I get spoiled rich, I’m dissin’ all you disloyal royal bitches so pussy, you smell like coil fish broiled crisp in crisco oil. Type of pussy to brag about kitty you’re getting, yet skittishly scamper off from litter you scatter all over the city. It’s a pity tryna make it in this pit full of lying snakes who hide and wait to justify hateful nature violate you. Be warned of the wild hounds. They’ll duck around a corner of the house and pounce when you’re down on luck. Hornets swarm once talent is sprouting up from underground. Huh. I wonder how none of them did amount to much. I am merely the ill conceived afterlife of a wildebeest sacrificed in a killing spree, hacked and sliced to a million pieces. Back with twice the abilities. I still believe. The jagged knife that was drilled in me’s half the size of my will to breath. Feel at ease. Even the last to leave are only back to feast on the rations once their capture detaches the latch and leash. The alpha- beast has the least reason to flash his teeth. I’ve painted a masterpiece with the bloodstains of my past deceased. No one’s true to their word. They’ll stab you in the back. I don’t move with the herd or travel in a pack. A man without a face is a man with a thousand ways to walk amongst you. Off-putting, but never out of place.

Not long ago, whole world sunny and new. ‘Fore you know it, fourteen going on twenty-two. Funny, but true picture. Helicopter spotlights back yard. Felons hopping the fence hide in pitch black dark. Nobody asked me for passports at the border. No backcourt violation. No bad sports- manship. Tourists? Too concerned with a smoother tan. Locals know water's been scarce since Hoover Dam. Winters overcrowded. Summers are hot. Some overcome. Others curl up under a rock someplace out of their minds. Must be the pressure. Compressing ‘em down to valuable diamonds. Lest we forget. Let’s reassess problems we address every just so often. If we all get called out ‘stead of called on, we all drown in this small pond of a Fall drought. It’s all wrong. Bell tower hits. Twelve hour shift satur- day night. Battery life felt powerless. How do I fight the hell out of this mad house. Fast route. No return back south crashed out on dads' couch. Arizona fun; Coronas washing somas down and cough ’em up in a coma. Won't ever cease to astound me how we even grew up down in Yuma County. Too much counting. Drug raids. Thugs who revere Pac at young age. Gothic tats spelling, "Fear not.” Severe shock of killing signified in a permanent tear drop. I pierced rock bottom, then managed to jackhammer through earth further than I thought possible. Even that didn’t work. Lord knows. It rains; storm blows. Looks like orange groves tonight dozing off in these torn clothes. Messages in a bottle sent from the past tear apart by sharp edges of glass shards. Smashed where they start. No remedy the way it seems. So, I bring meaning to memories like they were dreams Back when it was 505. Me and Silly Sal. Yea we living live. Bending corners on the Ave. Blowing smoke as we bag. Watch for the backstab. If I got, know we had. Chilling at the slab. Memory’s all we have. Life is gone in a flash. Framed in hearts so it lasts. Speak your name, hold a mass. Forever stained. Life is crass. Pour a little liquor for the ones that passed. Barbecues mark the day. Case of 40s straight away. Hit the spliff as we lift. Freestyle sessions. That’s the shit. Have them dimes in and out. Run through ‘em without a doubt. Young bucks on the scene. Watch ‘em bug out. Cruise passed the curfew lights. Hoping not to lose sight. Endless days, endless night. Thought we’re living right. On that paper chase. Dodge the inside. Some got caught up. Reality of our side. Never slow. Living low. Rep out of control. Using my name to get through the door. Trips out of town. Got that work, he out of bounds. Put hands on a fool trying to clown. This was life. Was it right? Had to stumble, had to fight to maintain through the pain, hoping to stay sane. Got it’s way. No one to blame through the trials. No one unscathed. Cant believe the preacher ‘bout them better days. Hit the bong. We rolling strong in streets we’re staying on. Tried to conquer; can’t divide. See the filth and the lie. Ostracized. Can’t break my pride. Got the ties that bind from days of a youth. Taught to question truth. From playing tag in the street to toe tag. Eternal sleep. What was the difference. I couldn’t see. Kids with dreams turn into teens with schemes, become adults with means reflecting on dreams. Messages in a bottle sent from the past tear apart by sharp edges of glass shards. Smashed where they start. No remedy the way it seems. So, I bring meaning to memories like they were dreams

Listen here, Lil' Young Mang. Lemme reveal 1 thang. No matter how many records you sell,  it's still chump change 'cause, tomorrow, the wave you're on'll feel mundane and the art of rhyme is still unchanged. I’m unchained like Alcatraz escapees. Even my eyes, nose, and mouth wouldn’t face me. Women chase me. My stamina’s incredible. My rhyme’s impeccable. Like Aretha, I’m respectable. Hit the decks and roll. Coming for smoke like a pot farmers. Rolladeks, SP. Birds of a feather flock farther. This quill’ll etch words in stone like a rock carver. Try and stop us and get choked out with your laptop charger. And choke you out until your battery’s dead. You see it’s saddening, exactly where your flattery led. So, calm your ass down you wack ass clown. We don’t back down. When we laid this track down, then you get a capped gown. Ladies, if ya’ll are foxy, stay by the door. We might need your fine asses to stall the cops, please. Sound-man turn the beat up on the boombox steeze. If you ain’t feeling this shit, lay off the oxys. Nothing but gems. It’s chaos as soon as we drop these. Want a collab? You got it. We charging top fees. Nice with the pen. Cold with the off the top frees If you ain’t feeling this shit, lay off the oxys. Lay off the oxys, lean, and syringes. Cause you’re only serving your girls a couple inches. See, it’s pathetic getting a fix from synthetics. Thinking it’ll got through your body like a diarrhetic. Head to toe covered in shitty tats. You bitches act like we’re here to pity pat with these kitty cats. Your daddies should have worn jimmy hats like fitted caps. Even your midi tracks sound like they belong on a city map. Rap stars get treated like a swisher and dutch. Cause I’m not giving a fuck like a chick not giving it up. So if you wanna get hardcore, I’ll throw you through four burning barbed wire boards on a hard floor. In your carport. Flipped backward with a harsh force that’ll make your hip fracture and leave you there with your it factor. Keep dumbing it down and spit faster Gimme the mic. I’m cutting you out the mixed master. Ladies, if ya’ll are foxy, stay by the door. We might need your fine asses to stall the cops, please. Sound-man turn the beat up on the boombox steeze. If you ain’t feeling this shit, lay off the oxys.

I recognize disaster. It looks like publicity stunts doubles and crisis actors. No one in the industry want trouble. Priceless laughter. Bunch of SISI fronts. That’s ISIS backward. I will highjack a direct energy weapon’s access to set coordinates into your address. Either that or stage your slaughter on the edge of Avery property. Momma raised me properly. But that, I learned that from a pseudo flat-earther. Two minutes after using a google map server. I’m subtle as pick-pockets. Slicker than all them tax laundering, sex-trafficking politicians in office. Too inherently evil to care for the people there beneath the American eagle. Why can’t we start sharing as equal when a drug addict can do it with a heroine needle. Somebody raise a fist. I’m trying to gain some traction without a hateful diss. Somebody raise a fist. ‘Cause I can’t tell who’s line I’m adjacent with. Somebody raise a fist. I’ve tried to hit the mark so many ways and missed. Somebody raise a fist. ‘Cause it feels like I’m shouting into a grave abyss. Here’s a thought for your brain storm? Take your death wish into a precinct for a police complaint form. Narcos fight crime while pharma buys lifelines to spike fines by five times. It’s a price climb to pay your bills the way it tilts like a land fill hill built in the financial playing field. They can steal spoils of war down our boiling core of earth for nothing more than oil to pour. Soil of shores are getting replaced with trash. So I take it as a compliment when I’m labeled plastic. I’ve outlasted all other hazardous waste I was wrapped in a bag and stashed with. Bodies float ashore. Satellites over the globe in orbit; faces still appear on the grocery store poster boards. So, watch the tone. That alone gets you buried under a stack of bones somewhere in the Paris catacombs. Somebody raise a fist. I’m trying to gain some traction without a hateful diss. Somebody raise a fist. ‘Cause I can’t tell who’s line I’m adjacent with. Somebody raise a fist. I’ve tried to hit the mark so many ways and missed. Raise ‘em higher than our environments' rising climate where viruses thrive. Time is expiring for mankind to survive. If I’m living the american dream, why does it seem like a pyramid scheme. Forget if it’s credible. The victor writes history. No one even said it had to be legible. Listen, fam. You’re gonna wish you planned when shit hits the fan and you stand there at a disadvantage, shitting your pants. Should’ve helped your neighbor to prosper instead of benefitting from the cheap labor that’s offered. Walter Gonzales said, “Keep your silence. Not to listen is non-compliance.” I’d like to add add there can be no defiance as long as there’s reliance and there can be no independence without alliance. There’s always one to screw it up for everyone else, so they flood the streets with guns and let it take care of itself. Tax man is a full-time job and I can’t fight him and win. I gotta full-time job.

If I were the type to rhyme every crime my simple mind could muster, I’d figure, “What better time than a world-wide pandemic to slide up in a mask without getting eyed, jack some disinfectant wipes and make the dash unidentified?” Not one of these stupid hooligans have unloaded a full clip. Wanna know how I know? A magazine holds the bullets. Anyway, gun-bars. They’re not for me. I’m Socrates with the freedom of speech. And speaking of which, it’s not for free. The cost of running your mouth is a doctor’s fee. So, mind your q’s and p’s. Or I’ll cross your i’s dot your t’s. If you’re strong, say less. These days, I'd rather listen to Dave East than Kenye West. Do they care at all? In the midst of a crock of lies, where are y’all? Salute to the aerosol keeping Hip-Hop alive. It takes a pair of balls to share a wall with wherewithal not to get caught surprised when cops arrive with a plot devised to chop your life-span short. Cans stored in a jan- sport like a transporter. Dodging a landlord. I get it. Hip-Hop has taken my best years and I’m left here while these songs fall upon deaf ears. I’ll still shatter your fragile ego with battle free-flow. Crowds react to me slow at every show, then play it back until their phone battery’s low. Give a fuck if I go over their heads, motherfucker. Wack emcees know. Hand me the microphone. Leave me and the mic alone. Used to be a high school loner, writing raps while I’m walking home. My headphones on. A hundred beats on my CD. Used to download it on limewire and burn it on a MPC. That was back when the raps had to mean something. We started from the bottom from (psh) practically nothing. But David Ruffin to jam to. Listen, love, and let’s handle. Life is nothing but gambles leaving some off in shambles. To be a winner, well there’s got to be loser. Shit can get real deep if you don’t know how to scuba. Fuga fucked up someone call him an uber. First place ’til someone hit him with a Koopa shell. What’s the matter, dog you looking pale. A dark knight writing hitting like Christian Bale. I’m hell bent filled up with anger and out of control. The devil looking at me like he want to claim my soul, but... You broke dummy rappers trying to be dope money rappers. This ain't Philly, it ain't always sunny rappers. Y'all like some funny actors, I'm more like Al Bundy Rappin' in my undies clappin', taggin', breakin' and scratchin. Yall dumbin' shit down, dunce cappin'. What the fuck happened? Devolvin' has become all to common. Bars went from Fettuccine to top ramen. Honestly, most of y'all ridiculously average. You'll be flashin' gucci and money soon, thats a stimulus package. Insidious savage. You're the epitome of wackness. A fake persona like these hoes tryin' to catfish. Get hit with a spinning back-fist. Matt Serra. I'm a rap terror. You ain't runnin' shit. Only thing runnin' is your mascara. Gimme the real Hip-Hop. Fuck this wack era...

They used to write about truth and light. Now, they choose to abuse the mic to boost their hype with some views and likes. I sighted promise in quite a few who faded quick. Others made it and blew the one opportunity they would get. Paid to sit and occupy a position of company retail operation system representative assistant to the sister sub-division district supervisor or some occupation on nobody’s trade of interest. Wishing for any time but now any time but now.place but here. Every case of beer reminds ‘em how many wasted years have kept a wider smile on the face of fear. Decent days work/measly wage. Monotonous as that copy machine stacking a piece of paper. Coffee and crème’ll wash down something to keep you paced for this week to week behavior. You need to seek savior. I ain’t sure what this is supposed to mean. I just hope it brings a spark to start fixing your broken dreams. Broken dreams. It’s just like dopamine as I float upstream. So it seems. I sailed across an ocean for the boat to sink. Broken dreams. It’s just like dopamine as I float upstream. So it seems. I guess I’ll never take flight with these open wings. I dug ditches fifteen feet deep, depleted in a hundred and three degree heat. A least it beat the hell out of that TV station, playing infomercials where they replaced me with some bitch that smelled like a ninja turtle. Then, I worked as a shop clerk pricing merchandise, you know. God’s work, but a lot worse with no job perks. If I learned one lesson of value, for what it’s worth, it’s this personality. It was never cut out for customer service. I preferred Army boots soaked in blood from lugging a ruck sack on my shoulders until my toes opened up. As luck had it, I cheated death. Avoided the greasy mess of Middle- East war when I PCS’d three weeks before the boys left. They deployed and I can’t even tell ‘em “Peace, be blessed,” ‘cause I’m not the one robbed of an easy rest. Soaking wet in cold sweats. Dead soldiers are owed this debt. I won’t forget. It’s far from over. These dreams ain’t broken, yet. Success is measured in milligrams. I will advance as long as there’s still a chance. Skills enhance No longer known for boasting most men don’t know how to slow their role let alone hold control over their own emotion. The time will come to find the one underlying undefined light shining bright as the blinding sun. I ain’t sure what this is supposed to mean. I just hope it brings a spark to start fixing your broken dreams. Broken dreams. It’s just like dopamine as I float upstream. So it seems. I sailed across an ocean for the boat to sink. Broken dreams. It’s just like dopamine as I float upstream. So it seems. Now, watch me take flight with these open wings.

Baby, it isn’t your fault I sit at the bar when I get off a little too long and forget to call. Must be the marijuana I smoked. I’m supposed to be honest and open. All the promises broken. How can we see this through? Because I just wanna be with you. Believe me, it’s true. The monster under my bed snuck up to hold a gun to my head. Must’ve been something I said. The daunting screams; the haunting dreams. We all know of the longing wanting brings. A fiendish lust for the secret potion sunk in the deepest ocean. Something gives me the notion love is a sweet emotion of a complete devotion. Love is cuddling up in the freezing cold when your feet are frozen and heater’s broken. Shed naked. Let’s make the bed quaking, leg shaking, cure for the head ache sort of good love. Gimme the good love. I’m not one to chase, so gimme the good love. I’ve got none to waste. Gimme the good love. I’m not one to chase, so gimme the good love. I’ve got none to waste. Why do rappers emphasize sex drive in front of an audience comprised of 95% guys? Bragging about the greasiest shit I wouldn’t even admit. Best believe he’s gonna get some hefty fees for stress relief like STDs or pregnancy unexpectedly. Dudes, you don’t have to practice abstinence. If you smash then, wrap your shaft in a prophylactic. What are natural effects worth having regrets from casual sex with no actual depth one after the next? Filling the void with hollow libido bravado ’til you destroy any feeling of joy. I don’t need some body to coddle my ego. All that we’ve been through ought to convince you to see the light. It’s simple. I ain’t in it for hook ups. I’d like to see where it puts us, if we could just surrender to good love. Gimme the good love. I’m not one to chase, so gimme the good love. I’ve got none to waste. Gimme the good love. I’m not one to chase, so gimme the good love. I’ve got none to waste.

Only kids living below the middle class, throwing every moment in the trash wishing it would pass by in a flash. Now we reminisce to have one minute to relive a past that didn’t last. Didn’t bother me much. Possibly ‘cause I was, honestly, just too young to know what poverty was. You offered me hugs, fatherly love, plus all the above and worked your ass off to see us. Always there to remind us that you’re the boss in town. All the negative parts in this song, crossed ‘em out. Woke us up to coffee grounds. Peers of mine took a softer route: slothful, lounging on the couch. No talks about the when, how, the who’s who. Ins, outs, then, now, the future. How to win/ and lose. How to choose friends. So I ain’t had to walk a mile in your shoes. It could’ve been a… Whole lot worse. Not half bad. Could’ve been a whole lot worse. Whole lot worse. Not half bad. Could’ve been a whole lot worse. You taught us how to work, how to earn. When an earn spills my burned remnants over dirt with the worms, I’m sure yearning to search endures. ‘Cause, first and fore-most, you taught us how to learn. It’s our turn. It had to be luck, I had you there to ladder me up when tragedy struck erratically. No matter how bad reality sucked, it was plug battery in; up at ‘em again. Always there to remind us that you’re awful proud. All the negative parts in this song, crossed ‘em out. Could’ve been a foster child. Peers of mine were often housed in lost and found, tossed around. Left stranded to manage the damage of abandonment. No second chances handed. No advantages. Most of ‘em vanished. So I’ll be damned if I ever take you for granted. It could have been a… Whole lot worse. Not half bad. Could’ve been a whole lot worse. Whole lot worse. Not half bad. Could’ve been a whole lot worse.

Matt Lohrenz hung from the basketball rim. It was all morning ‘fore his Pastor father walked ten yards passed and saw him. That’s one the cats I called friend. Chronic madness. That’s one of the traps to fall in. As for Walt Gonzales you’d have never known. Of all addictions he left alone, cause of death was shown to be methadone. Honing balance is challenging in a town that encourages greed to flourish without nurturing individual talent. Ya’ll were drastically crucial my development as a emcee. Radically influenced every aspect of me. Each track completed, I crave your feedback. I need that. Even if you told me to redraft and the beat’s wack. I keep asking why the good die young. I want to curse the sky at the top of my lungs. Instead, I lie numb tung-tied. This world that we live in is will crushing. How can I lose everybody and feel nothing? Somewhere above, black eyes are smiling. The end is near and we’re all dying. Give it up. No use in trying. The end is near and we’re all dying. We’re all dying. We’re all dying. We’re all dying. My neighbor Koshe came over with a strange explanation pertaining to pain medication. Eighteen years of age, then. In hindsight, I was too preoccupied with my little life to pay mind what his doctor prescribed. Rewind more than a decade prior. I wasn’t aware that he once lied lifeless on a highway. Apparently his bike collided with some three-wheeler. Physical therapy couldn’t stop shotgun suicide. He was preparing me. College debt came. Then weight gain. Jim Brown wanted that escape lane for a place to stake claim. But, Grey- hound Bus? Couldn’t scrape change together for Great Dane. His mother began to take aim and didn’t play games. The freight train took him beyond the pressure. One bad slip. The pressure is gone, but his spirit lives on forever. Tricky when you’re never shown what real love means. How can I lose everybody and feel nothing? Somewhere above, black eyes are smiling. The end is near and we’re all dying. Give it up. No use in trying. The end is near and we’re all dying. We’re all dying. We’re all dying. We’re all dying. Everybody dies. Even the guys who show you to Christ. Brian Ressenger chose his wife unwisely. Tortured him ’till he took his own life with a bottle of oxycodone and said his goodbyes. My eyes witnessed CJ Walker live with his diagnosis. Cystic Fibrosis. You’d rather be afflicted by locusts. I miss this guy so much. But, he’s on to a greater existence I know this. They say it’s all for the best. Still it’s early to lay my father to rest. Maybe talking’ll get it off of my chest. Poured you into my hand to spread you out on your final resting place. Turned around to a camera dead in my face. Blood boiling, but you raised me to be receptive. Not the last message I would expect, dad. So, glad you sent it. Once again adjusting my steel cufflinks. Another funeral day and feel nothing.

Doctor, is there a cure?  I want to know. Will I live any more? I ain’t gonna lie; I don’t want to die, ‘cause if I end up in hell, I won’t wonder, “Why?” It’s trying to steal my soul I feel so cold. It’s gotten difficult just to lift my skull; got to get control…  But the less morphine coursing through are more things foreseen: a surgeon, a nurse and a third guy, too.  Wait. That’s me, from birds’ eye view, The covers are wet; covered in red from blood that I shed. How much have I bled?  Huffing for breath, chest getting weak, leaving the flesh, not ready to cease yet.  Fingers are set and I’ll never release; I ain’t resting in peace. Death is a beast.  X marks the spot; checkmark the box. (The sharp, crooked blade’ll stop your heart like a target dot.) X marks the spot; checkmark the box. (The sharp, crooked blade’ll stop your heart like a target dot.) Life flashing before my eyes, warm inside, moving towards the guide.  A voice advised me, “Avoid the light.”  Which choice is right? Was I born to die, joining my heroes?  It appears so and it’s clear no one is here. Most went ahead. I'll see them when I’m dead. Must be in and out, ‘cause I can see 'em, now hovering over my hospital bed.  Time’s running low. I want to know when God’s Son will show. Can’t decide if I’m gonna go. Mind’s functioning, slow. What are you gonna do when death comes for you? Trick question. Catch twenty-two.  Slow death. Low breath. No less I ain't willing to go yet. I won't rest. Not after all this progress. Still got a low sense of responsibility in this whole mess. X marks the spot; checkmark the box. (The sharp, crooked blade’ll stop your heart like a target dot.) X marks the spot; checkmark the box. (The sharp, crooked blade’ll stop your heart like a target dot.) I’m indebted to anyone that ever said I won't live to hit twenty-six when I'm seventy-eight because in the end, it was them giving me the incentive to get up and make enemies wait for my yet-to-be fate a century late. Weather I make it through heavenly gates or they send me to Satan, every light eventually fades. Don’t tremble & shake. Afraid to fly. It ain’t late to try. Your fate can’t be seen by the naked eye ’til it’s faded by before you can say goodbye.

I spent five years at a fellowship where the minister had an affair with the wife of one of the members there. Married with three kids. Now, the secret is out and he’s left with nothing except conviction of what he did. Must be mid- fifties, but I won’t check the date. Heard he’s covered in extra weight. Grubbing from a collection plate. Best to make peace and leave it alone. I’ve learned evil you fight can eat you alive and defeat you like Phoenix Jones. Leaving the congregation before it all went down, I recall the look on their faces when I saw ‘em around. Small town gospel gossip. Nothing like free will to reveal the real message in the exile of Ezekiel. Blasphemy. That’s the shade of judgment cast. Heaving stones when they’re made of glass passed the knee. Ask me these days, waiting for happiness after death makes less sense than running faster to catch your breath. Holding me back. Getting to know you. What’s been holding me back. Getting to know you. What’s been holding me back. Getting to know you. If your word is all true, you’re the one I wanna walk close to. Holding me back. Getting to know you. What’s been holding me back. Getting to know you. What’s been holding me back. Getting to know you. If your word is all true, you’re the one I wanna walk close to. I’ve seen demons flea from the body. Believe it or not, I’ve watched the meanest sons of bitches switch up to be something Godly. Oddly enough, the Bible’s got a good way of making somebody wanna drop the bottle and throw toxin away. It’s proper to say, only the most provocative thing can lead you out the drug scene to clean up your blood stream. Mud sling at the name of the one Lord, but He never want’s war. Not what He made us for. Much more that peace hand signs. Who else can lead man- kind through all these land mines to an answer we can’t find? Leanne Rhymes? Search this entire earth’s surface. No person is worthy of reversing this curse without serving a higher purpose, first. It’s the perverts and murderers who mis-interpret the word, but I can discern the serpent’s work. And if the worst can learn to accept mercy they don’t deserve.., Holding me back. Getting to know you. What’s been holding me back. Getting to know you. What’s been holding me back. Getting to know you. If your word is all true, you’re the one I wanna walk close to. Holding me back. Getting to know you. What’s been holding me back. Getting to know you. What’s been holding me back. Getting to know you. If your word is all true, you’re the one I wanna walk close to.