One brick always sticks out in mind/
From way back when, then I say “My God, does time fly”/
Out of hand, as I try to kick back and spit raps, this crap revolves around my past/
Time spent sling-shotting lies to myself and between your eyes just to threaten your health/
Care is taken when hate initiates its manifestation—typically coinciding with the age of masturbation/
When we angrily weed-whack the lawn of pubes/
Download the futility, look back upon the humility, self-degradation is proved/
Frustrated with frustrations that loom, I sat faux-Amish; Fa’sho’ impoverished/
Immersed in a war on the streets where the forlorn are indiscreetly beat/
Up in the streets I felt I was an actor, beside men who riot and pilot tractors: I became a factor/
Exactly what I planned to enact was a plan of attack/
All’s I can afford’s an 8-track?!/
Smack the inner-city outsiders for making my family economic outliers/
Discussing a master race? That’s a far cry from me laying here now jamming Masta Ace. . ./
Cat, my rat race to the poverty finish line was sublime/
But rhetoric put my head in the clouds, so I began putting spics spines to the ground/
The thunderous sound of our childhood together pounds me in this stormy weather/
It was a pleasure, but as Oreos we must sever colors. Literally, you’re dead to me now, brother/
How will I explain to mother? Fuck it, her smothering is what left me too awkward for another to take me in/
Sides face-to-face, dividing line? Biological race. Hell on Earth’s the geographic place/
Best believe black boy, tonight your face is red meat/
But I’d bereave that magical night, should my wizard notice the lace on my bed sheet/
Music now soothes it, but as I look back at it, I can’t believe how I went down/
Around the strike of ten our cloaked army bespoke of how we needed to strike some men/
“Fight Back!” we said, “Affirmative Action needs retraction!” They bled following our firm reaction/
We chant “F this side of the city” sitting pretty in our F-150/
We come upon someplace shitty, ghetto donut shop/
Ironically but a block from the shack that put me in this tizzy. We stop/
“Are you with me?!” Indeed! Knees weak, arms heavy?/
Fuck that, I palm my brick—armed and ready/
Half a second, I reckon he didn’t foresee the cinder-block of Gibraltar rock him off our ivory tower/
Smiles beside me grew sour and quickly turned to glowers/
What happened to all our white power?/
Then I saw the men in blue drew their guns drawn/
Holy Shit! That was a God-damned one-off-duty officer of the law. . ./
Came, Conquered, Saw. Oops, sorry, just recapping what they did to me last night in the yard/
Check it, all my problems are solved!/
I’ve never gotten such distance from mom!/
I’ve got a fistful of Vaseline lovers who say I’m the bomb!/
I can almost hear your heart break as we speak, if not for the plexiglass/
My ass poor people can’t afford cell-ular phones/
I shoot bricks inside my house of government bricks where my boyfriends call me “Brickhouse”/
Mighty, mighty letting my pants fall down. Hey! That’s three bricks there now!/
But it only took one to make the structure fall down/

Fin.