Born and raised on the mean streets of Kingston
I didn’t know about holding open doors or saying thanks to no one

Watching gunners fold from the "Immortal Technique" of a point blank blast of a
shotgun to the back

Head meets Heel meets head

News for you
Dead people don’t bleed

So feel the need to step to me
But feel keenly the garlic laced blade protruding from the left socket of your eye

I tell you freely
I sleep like a baby

As there is no more satisfaction as a job well done
Personally!

The ebb
The flow
The light fades as the heart beat stops

I feel the need to pen this write

Just to escape my past

How long is it gonna last b4 time elapse
So I can pay back the cowards who snuck up and put one in my back

But missed two to the head
The spirit baby is not dead

He roams the streets
Haunting crevices

Concealed in words to purge the shock and horror of when I deliver the death blow!

Blow!

Blow!


***

You dial 911

I dial 9

Difference is!

Mine come at you
Super projectile style

Smile awhile

And give your soul a rest as there is no protection in wearing a bullet proof vest as black talons seek your cerebral cortex

My Desert Eagle loves giving head

No homo!

Watch da flow

The sickening thud of clotted blood!
Disperses freely from my pen as it bleeds

Bleeds

Bleeds...

***

Stare into the chasm of the Howitzer

This write deserves a Pulitzer
I walk up to the stage rocking my blood soaked Timber’s
String vests and baggy jeans

Finger on da trigger

Ever ready to highlight and enlighten
The ignorant

***

I was raised by legends

Conceived by my mother’s first back shot

Born on the 21st on an afternoon sunny and hot

Just in time for the eclipse of the sun and the earthquake that followed!

My brother didn’t make it

Or did he?

Sharing the same body as me

Twins despicably

Ulterior motives

Slicing your crown in half
Just to laugh at the grey
And ask you

What’s the matter?

***

My mother says I’m Para


But am I normal?










Tru/Stories

UltimatelyTheCure