East coast born but west
coast raised.
Children of the corn get
lost in the maze.
My shortcomings have been a
long time running.
Summing up the risks,
gotta stay cunning.
Stunned by the cold
hearted,
Bodies warm around me.
Gunned down, dearly
departed,
Death is all I see.
It just won't let me be.
This shadow of chaos,
that is my friend.
I've always made great company,
But when does this friendship end.
I feel like a small boat out at sea.
My sail is in need of mending.
The hands on the clock, always
pointing at me.
I'm breaking rules not
intended for bending.
The message I'm sending out,
can you relate?
Is there another route,
where wolves don't lie in wait?
Can we start the party now,
Did I arrive too late?
Don't tell me I have a choice, Pal,
when this has always been my fate.
Life is overrated,
everything I see is
fukkin' jaded.
It's got me so frustrated,
The only way to cope,
Is to get faded.
Everyone is baited into
thinking we are free.
People like me are hated,
for our individuality.
This program is outdated,
Ain't no way to be placated.
I need to stay sedated,
'cause this shit has got me so irrate.
Everyone is waiting for
their god to set them free.
Generations celebrating,
Prophets of Hypocrisy.
I'm a dynamo with my flow.
Wind me up and watch me go.
I want all my peers to finally know,
The poetic Hip Hop Mistro.
Michael's psycho,
A double barrel rifle.
I wouldn't triffle...
with me when I hold the mic, bro.
I'm spiteful because I'm
Sick of it.
How delightful...
No one gives a shit.
But I'm about to get lit,
I deserve what I get.
I've put in my time,
and now I'm a vet...
So y'all get set.
It ain't over yet,
Time to cash in,
'cause my money's all wet.
You can bet, I won't let you...
Do what you love to do.
There's no demon that I haven't met.
This attack on me's nothing new.
Life is a parade,
This is all a false charade.
They'll keep you medicated
if you sign your name today.
Everything I say, probably goes
In one ear and out the other.
How much shall we pay for
the blood of our brother.
Taught to hate another,
It's the mother of all sin.
Keep the agenda covered up,
Pretend to be my friend.
Quicksand is their words,
I'm sinking in the irony.
Their tongue's like posioned swords...
Prophets of Hypocrisy.
Written by: Michael W. Taylor
January 31st. 2022 ©
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