Toss

From sounds, sounds from words
Words of life, words in strife
Birth is a right, cry when born
Soon you smile, soon you long
I sang songs, I rapped verses
I wrote poems, I took chances
I sniffed thongs, Sinuses prolonged
Digitize my senses, life smells foul


This is a token to my growth, a story you might loath
Spoken by my tongue, swallowed pride, chocked
This is for mama @21 she conceived my Karma
This is for Mama 27 years later, she speaks alone
Wallowing in her own Mantra
Pages of her life, flipped fast
Heard the sounds, words she couldn’t catch
Shift your gaze away from the book, look at me
Your love is grazed, you hurt me
Let me touch, tell you my story
In the midst of a search, for the city’s glory


This is for the employer with a big mouth and a big car
Squeezing life out, leaving you with scars
Of months without pay
Watching you recycle tea bags night through day
Smoking cheap cigarettes everyday
Your lips get cracked to pale till you can’t ask for pay

This is for the landlord responsible for my downfall
Stress and declining libido
Quick to knock at my door
When the rent is due, with threats of getting me auctioned

This is for the city gal who puts a price tag on her pussy
And attaches her emotions to it for what does it cost
To spread her tiny frail legs but a muscle
The days go by its part of the hustle

This is for the friend who is always hungry
Pilgrim seeking for someplace to sleep
Always carrying a backpack full of downloaded music
And rumbles the whole night
About the matrix having 3 themes

This is for my little biddy brother
Whose 3rd eye is full of cataracts
And has failed to gain the sense
That we aint eating from our mother pot no more
So he needs to get his own

This is for my art and the number of times one, two three four times infinity
It took me to revolve around the fact that once you embrace talent
There will be many who will take advantage
Leaving you frustrated, after you have paid their water bill

This is for the disgruntled relatives, who play hosts to pilgrims
Pilgrims whose stay is relative to a good reception, warm meal
A pillow to rest their big brained heads
And rhyme books their sanctuaries for solace
Where water quenches their blood’s thirst
In discontent their kins turn away their faces
For their ears to smile at you

This is for my immediate and frustrated neighbor
Who finds a scapegoat when he complains to the compound caretaker
About my music saying its loud and disturbing
Yet its his daughters who get aroused and keep bugging
Coming to my house freaks urging
Your daddy wants me kicked out so I flip housings
Three is a crowd heard your mummys soon leaving
So what does that got to do with loud hiphop music

This is for the taxi drivers, grocery store owners,
shoe makers, telephone booth vendors,
Iron sheet Kiosk waiters, Bodega hood rats
Around the shopping centre looking at me
Making comments as to why my pants hang low
Instead of focusing on why their sales are low

This is for the country that holds my birth rights
And its politicians
I can only promise to put you back in office if I can eat!

This is a token to my growth, a story you might loath
Spoken by my tongue, swallowed pride, chocked
This is for you mama at 27 am still struggling
To make you a happy mother!