Why do I get mah serve on every day, I gotta get pay/
As I pave tha way I got regularz comin like church on sunday/
Grew up in tha K, if so I wouldnt rap today, tha past seems gray/
I cant recall, too many sharp blowz to tha head, broke or dented/
Chi town native, 4-11 age, instead of bein raised, I laid broke in bed/
White boy at Monarch grade school, only pale so laid in own red poolz/
Turn me loose, after bein thrown off a roof, I thought mah life waz through/
So untrue, what could I do, two broken legz, an a broken spirit too/
Intellegence through penz on page, I know what I am, but who/
Yearz pass, recovery has taken place, now tha game has to lay to waste/
Rap discraced by Broke Stylez, get outta mah face I hold mah place/
Still visit Chi, keepin roots, cept now stead of fist this honkey shootz/
Busted Blindly till I seen tha bloody bootz, stept in mah bulletz juice/
Looked at his face, I seen fallin from tha rooftop,
I shot again, but I felt mah broken heart stop.......

One......

this was tight, ill but small imagery, nice words explainin' with this, flow was tight, rhymed, wordplay was simple, but poetry comes in many forms, this deserves madd props on story tellin', peace 'n' keep spitting


signed,
~madd

Seven deadly, this gonna be a series, i victimized mah life wit all seven deadly sinz, so enjoy the pieces....