But you know what? granny is almost dead

And im almost full of regret 

Grandma didn’t think a woman could be president

In the height of my indoctrination

So I didn’t as much as I should 

And know we know 

Mike Obama is our vote 

Don’t hold it against

Lest its held against y’all

Money and slavery I care not

But Once they take my pint

I will riot

And not like someone off 

Some dead obscure poet

He started as a tactician

A military strategist turns poet turns against

The invaders of our govt 

The civil war of the CIA 

The beats I make for the winning side

Which potter and Skywalker

Always taught was good

Good rides slide

And bad ones go bye bye 

But what if the shooter was in a blackrock commercial?

How groomed can a boy get 

If my Lower jaw and speech impediment never got fixed

They’d harvest me to the same predicament

To be frank poets are ready to die 

More so than the best soldiers 

We provide so much gold 

To both sides of the alphabet agencies

But god please give me something 

That’s worth it 

The themes now a book of poetry 

Before I get cozy and wed 

Some easily excitable amish from Pen 

Most men choose the sword 

As that’s our more natural prose

I wanted to save my back

So I chose the pen like a pussy in the dark out back

And we know 

From groundbreaking peer reviewed life experience

Not all pussy is equal

So let the legislation run

Lets obscure the truth 

My body my choice in bed with us ready to die for the 1st amendment    

And that’s what separates us from the soulless drones

That don’t know 

And would prefer to never choose

A hill to die on 

And if grandma heard all this

She’d understand only the tone

So let me play some nice major 7 chords

And mumble it in a nice one

Granny’ll nod and turn her head

When I say God Bless the world we live in 

God bless the nuns in the back of the club 

There’s no other reason I’d be here on a night that isn’t funk night

And since I got your attention

Shoutout to that fed in the steam room 

10 miles from base 

Trying to sell me a berretta on the down low from the trunk of his car

At the YMCA 

But grandma would slap the shit outa me 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=—=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-NOT BELOW THIS LINE -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

I’m out of time Its a procrastinating line  

I’m done with this its time to pay a bunch of money to the government for the paperwork

Just for the potential and a promising one to double my income this year 

And to get the jeep and to get the studio by the beach 

It’s not poetic if it didn’t start as a dream

And since when did dreams rhyme? 

Theyre more soup like

Which was my main emotion when I stop pitying 

The world for falling for every trap and blunder the razor eyes can’t skip 

But hey I want to say something that grandma wouldn’t slap the shit out of me for

That’s my goal and although it can’t be achieved right now

I still hope that God blesses all of us until we die