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Skeleton Key 

Soul unrested my minds infested
with other peoples questions
I’ve never taken the time
to relieve my own tension
open up my thoughts and find
where the scars are impressed in
how does it make you feel
you don’t know the reasons
for your best friends lessons?
where there’s pain you find the connection
what about that little girl
you tried to give the world?
hope you didn’t mess up her vision of life
by putting your heart where she isn’t
regret getting her name
tatted on your wrist yet?
it’s being a father figure from a distance
it’s unfortunate you can’t live through intention
happy birthday baby, maybe one day
you’ll understand what you been through
when you feel sadness
that’s the Devil trying to get you
remember I’m always with you
til then I’m an empty seed
left with my heart for a skeleton key

From After Years Of Television

Dollar Billed Pyramids 

In God I trust
knock the dust off my faced in value
I’m chased in volume
encased in volume of money, cash, hoes
bloody stash nose
her body has those curves
that instill the thrill
to kill bills like
some coked up Beatrix Kiddo
in the back of spliffed out limos
without the tinted windows
suckin’ for the fiscal
her bodies oh so sinful
to the instrumental of
Can’t It Be So Simple
lookin’ at this girl there’s nothing
she won’t get into
while her son’s at home
smashin’ on Nintendo
she’s blowin’ on them whistles
down to the creamy gristle
gettin’ whipped by pistols
just to feed her kiddo
100 dollar billers
make her titties jiggle
thinkin’ my God, he’s never gonna uplift you

From After Years Of Television

Wonder Years 

What’s wrong with that man Daddy?
I don’t know, keep staring
he’s a freak show
legs sponsored by Calico
police peek through the peep hole
and see the tears of Calixto
huddled over Nico
blood fresh off the needle
witnessing the last time
the rush fuckin’ pleased you
fold your hands son
here comes the church
and the steeple
then the people who tried to piece you
and your mind as feeble
holding onto drugs
as the reason God won’t keep you
my soul became see through
flash my confined mind to the 1-9-9-9
at that time when I took a blind sign
to a nines shine
seconds away from resting my sublime mind
on a Pink Floydian wall
outsiders think Freudian thoughts
appropriate laws lay under fears
to get me through the wonder years

From After Years Of Television
 

Notice The Unnoticed 

Back where it all started
asleep and half hearted
half man half martyr
lookin’ to unmask the masked target
bumpin’ I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead
loud and obnoxious
quoting the Koran
for good grace of the prophets 
cuz the devil ain’t no locksmith
find solace in parallel elevation
of public transportation
scopin’ inebriated faces
lookin’ at life as makeshift
sharing the same hustler nature
same lustful hatred
reaching for the hand of God
with a closed fist wrist broken
carrying the weight of the hopeless
even God notices the unnoticed
same line, same mind, same grind, same find
the grass is always greener
even for the dense
drawn from a dead end sketch
cuz they didn’t even know
when and where to make the catch

From After Years Of Television

When Lightning Strikes 

Speak with dominant hammers
as a kid surrounded by guns
drugs and recognizable cancers
so I searched for definable answers
within West Side country grammar
world broken down in multiple fractures
16 bars, Sistine art, pristine knots
mislead God’s which breeds odds
self lord and master
welcome to life after
the bastard word crafter
bumpin’ ghetto blasters
echoing His Majesty’s Laughter
basking in alpha matter
emerging from the womb with 30 tattoos
no stab wounds or clap wounds
all this gun talk and no Papoose?
that’s like a black dude growing Hitler’s mustache
packin’ gun racks
screamin’ I love crack
reality bites mics
when my lightning strikes twice

From After Years Of Television

Life Blood 

The Devil enters my soul
my breath becomes cold mid winter
with a sudden inclination to injure
overwhelmed with visions to hit her
the first blows delivered
insert evidence between psychosomatic elements the precedent 
for what Kane and Abel told
strengthen the hold, mangle her throat
gouge her eye sockets
runnin’ out of breath reachin’ where I God is
my God it’s six hundred sixty six seconds beyond logic
my rage becomes toxic
to the point,I step outside my body to watch it
with no concept I’m monstrous
down the road, I’ll be a secret amongst the prophets
bludgeon her chest, feel her ribs knockin’
talkin’ with hatred and love
tasting her blood, raising her stumps
sky ward, onward christian soldier
fold her in half, enclose her in sacks
and relish the fact
I’ve sent mankind on a murderous path
you do the math

From After Years Of Television

Relics Of The Boombap 

Brown boy, brown boy, turn that shit down
relics of the boombap, the superlative sound
relatives and friends buried underground
public enemy of the state said date, ‘88
pre adolescent kids diggin’ through the crates
lookin’ for an escape to fight the power
cower in the presence of cowards
who siphon the powder through the nostril
hostile rap groups blamed the neighborhoods desecration
responsible for another elevation
anticipation of riding the El
entangled in protection of Guardian Angels
from crooked cops who want to detain you
lookin’ for answers to a case that went stand still
calling you a cancer descendants of Black Panthers
CVL’s and the Stone solid/
at seven not wanting college
because I had an education
of Rakim’s and Chuck D’s knowledge

From After Years Of Television

Monumental State Of Mind 

This is an open letter to Hilary
Senator McCain and Obama
I don’t care where in the world is Osama
the scapegoat of a monster
who Mr. Bush had us believe
if he were in prison
terrorism wouldn’t exist
ignorance is bliss
myth of fingerprints
here’s the list of things
that need to be to co exist
bring the troops home from Iraq
give us the peace sign back
I know it was about saving face
but this goes beyond that
you gotta dead the Patriot Act
it mad Arabs the new black
Islamic racism made me choose
between patriotism and my belief system
I’m rolling with God to the finish
women got the right to choose
don’t close the clinics
then you gotta silence the cynics
on this immigration sickness
all we want is our piece of the pie
and our vision of mastery
whether it’s McDonald’s
in the fields
or factories
give us amnesty
God Bless America
home of the brave
soul of the slave
land of democracy
and lack of oil
to the victor go the spoils

From After Years Of Television