rhawthorne81 the meek shall inherit the earth. the ones with fake swag only try their hand at god's will. - Mar 26, 2009 add/view comments (0)

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what it do? a lil bout me. born and raised in biloxi, mississippi. no kids. working man and college student. meaning imma certified nurses aide and i go to devry for electronics and computer technolgy. never been married. no kids. just living life for me. only i can love me like me feel me? live on the eastside. u can find me riding round in the pontiac baning that good ole music or that real gangsta music. none of that young boy mess. i.e eightball and mjg, tela, biggie, pac, atmosphere, scarface. the list goes on. r&b? got that too. al green, lionel richie, smokey robinson, marvin gaye, rose royce.. the list goes on. seeing i dont speak too much about myself. imma let me verses do it for me.. this is for them hating fellas.. listen.. u can spit til ya voice go hoarse. it doesnt matter, ull still get five %#&@$!s in the source, live reminders of ya source, five the grinders of the course, speak softly, or ull be the reason for the I.V. sport, see, u can be that boy, that %#&@$! back that toy, u can aim and deploy, but be smooth boy, should u miss, exsistence of this world would befearful, tearful the parentals, nope, never subliminal, lyrical the assasination of his hating, facing life sentence with no course of soul replacement, whats the bother?, invisible head shots at the least, two piece for the evening feast, here, repossess your teeth, ill reprogress the feat, keep talking, imma do that southern dance with feet, yup true enough, card game trump ya, meaning he down now, atl stomp ya, u got beef?, ill chomp ya, he got leaf?, ill swamp ya, he still %#&@$! though, hide behind his hoes, so those, open nose, catch cocaine from those fist blows, bloody nose indeed so, please lay low, u still want to be that boy, to %#&@$! back and deploy?, need to say no more, im moving on now, ive been closed that door on broken limbs, the show of pain ever more. this is for the ladies... a double greeting, meeting eachother as we never left, a step for mental enjoyment, yup, those words at its best, yup, just chillaxing, relaxing from the masses, taxing that universal heaven sent stress detachment, just one of those days, raining outside, but inside, its sunny all day, a couple bidis will treat me, al green on the mp3, i see this frequently, meekingly choosing my words carefully, thats just me, she often talks about those images, that still life, shes misses my smile sometimes, hasnt seen it in a while, i joke and while i dial those keys of communication, steadily laughing while time is passing, the %#&@$!s amazing, shes asked me if i heard from this ladies of past romantics, i replied, i slip and dodge those emotional haymakers, no time for that %#&@$!, all im saying is that im just trying to get back to where i came from.... the womb, that keep a nigga home at night tool. shes replies u a fool, but i know what u do, u keep me laughing, but thats why u too damn cool, i know the rules, yup, nothing but mental stimulation, them ladies appreciate a man who endures that friendly conversation. this is for me... living the martyr lifestyle for a while now. how am i a victim of my lifeline?. i gotta tone it down before i make that sound and think outloud before im found. such a mental downfall yall. so to all. ball yall. i aint mad atcha. but heres the mathmatics. if you doing your dirt stay registrated. legal they hate it. reanimate and evade your wake. no longer criminal. rarely hear subliminals from the realest of souls. testimonys spoken and etched in stone. cause for all those years cotton picking blue, lynch mobs, nig nogs, and porch monkeys and fried and dyed fools. naps in the kitchen chittlens and corn on the cob. watermelon drenched lipsand chicken stricken fingers. stealing demeanors of european features. the past grooms the demeanor. seldom seem to be the key to living your dreams. a forest with no trees. legs with no knees. love with no needs. somebody please. replicate these captions spoken from me. i need. political structure. image of hustlers, fidgeting mothers, we mourn chivalry, no longer lovers, feigning for lusting, to offer a offering, bothering collagen, fixing my lips before i say some %#&@$! like this. but thats just we. long-armed but we cant reach. but through these words. i wish i could live forever to teach.. yall be easy. im pretty easy to talk to. so if u wanna conversate.. speak up.. just come correct. deuces!!!!