It's funny how people in the thick of it are ready to switch sides

My mom checked out when I was 1

So I've been Hhans Solo

With pops for the ride

I guess I've never been checked in





Was just pride

I ate cause I had to

I ain't writing cause I'm mad at you

I'm writing this because it's a necessity

To actualize the point

Like Maslow

I was told that we all need love

Doves get taught around the block

While pigeons feed from dirty streets

Walking through mud

Hoping for a better chance

I swear I'm feeding off my own soul

Looking for the groove

But the devil loves to dance

That's why I keep writing these lyrics

Cause I ain't in to holding hands

Wish I had a magic 8 ball

Where I could tell you my plans

But then again

If I did I'd be keeled over like Micheal

Cause crack kills

And he was one of my best friends 


It's all coming out now

I'm feeling so alone

People aren't like patterns

So I wrote a poem

Cause their more like prose

That's why they call them bros

Because the others In brothers

Are like a pot of gold

And you've got to chase a lot of rainbows

To find one of those

I know

I think I found a few

But until 12-6 underground

You never know what their going to do

I swear to god I hate this feeling

The type of anger

That makes me want to go in a burning building

And save a room full of children

Cause I'm already burnt

Momma told me there would be days like this

You would think

I already learnt

I shouldn't have missed my my class

I wish I had more class

Maybe my socio economic status

Wouldn't have impeded me

From always starting out last

Fuck the back of the line

Black children

Born back into time

This ain't new news to me

In a New York minute

My mind is The New York Times

Black all over and read inside

Folded and wrapped in plastic

Doesn't that look nice

Pick me up and turn the page

Probably will make you cry

Cover page gets your attention

Page 2 eats

At your pride

Page 6 makes you real a Lize

That you're the part of the cause

In this so you close your eyes

Open back up to the comics

But until then you are blind

To the fact that

It's triggering a pastime paradise

Even Stevie wonder can see that

That's why it's track 9

I'm going to make this track 9

Put your headphones on

I hope it blows your mind

Real friends are hard to find

#Facts are sublime

I wrote this in 10 minutes

You read it in 2

That's an infinite amount of time

That I'll never get back

Another sideways 8

Another 4 parts jacks

And 5 fingers

Turning this fist into a pound

After feeling stabbed in the back


- Decora 3000

LyricsDecora Sandiford