I only rocked Blackhawk jerseys for the trash talk
brash walk, machetes and hack saws
I never gave a fuck about Stanley Cups
duck bullets that blew death kisses
breath hinges on hisses, then misses
shape shiftin’, change pitches
blades kill some
while others inhale gun smoke
in Deadpool’s like Wade Wilson
Guillotine got its seeds
from Company Flow & EPMD
we are the lineage others pretend to be
blood on the crown with the head
as the center piece
bars bang like a dusted car chase
when Angel took a chainsaw
to the head in Scarface
linguistics are gangster scientific
end your career in a New York minute
going for the finish
to be amongst the greatest ever listed
from Chitown to SINY
in the end I leave your neck severed
screaming Wu Tang Forever
injected with the blood of legends
Viewing: Short Fuze & Uncommon Nasa - View all posts
They Can't Kill Us All
I’m just pieces of a broken man
from a broken system and broken land
smoking aces, fired from a potent hand
quoted love songs from an open land
fighting what this world has come to
lightning striking quick because fate
it wants to love you from its bubble
saving me from drowning and going under
frozen winters turned to focused summers
hopeless visions cloaked in hope is
peeling back emotions through hosted muses
smelling roses, my mind is lighting fuses igniting fighting music
auto pilot driving lucid to my life’s conclusion
thankful for feeling movement
forgiving God for being mostly ruthless
besides my daughter and a few others
it’s mostly putrid
stolen moments laying in my death bed fearless
with the reaper as my kindred spirit
no matter what stand tall
because they can’t kill us all
Horseman Armor
I wear my scars as armor
a product of bars and smoke parlors
tattoos reflect sin of a martyr
daily me and god bartered
on whether or not
I should fold or walk harder
born under Carter, my era was made famous
by the pain Reagan painted
feeling shamed and caged in
the streets were a haven
moving through slums searching for crumbs
a genetic dump my limp said
I was too young to walk with shotgun pumps
Mexican born, I held a crown of thorns
feeling the scorn of not speaking Spanish
I gravitated to hip hop and black kids
they understood and made my pain vanish
being included in the movement
made me feel super human
it gave me protection from having my weakness dissected
words I projected became representation
for the anger and anguish
felt by my neighborhood nation
wishing I could save them all
with peace and salvation
Bare Hands
Moving through conspiracies and ultra violence
dampen culture and science
the vultures are non compliant
human rights became defiant
love, labor screams inside the echo chamber
boiling over with anger, what’s the angle?
anti mask, anti black, anti vaccine
more blood streams flood the streets
no justice, no peace, no compassion
tear gas quells the action, no reaction
attacked with lies and fake news
life and freedom, this is take two
history will know where to place you
make peace with the Gods you pray to
time will erase you
I’m from where the just and fair stands
I will forever destroy your hate with my bare hands
Now They Know It
Sit back, watch the paranoia overtake
can’t shake these god damn shakes
bitten by the snakes
feel the venom raise the stakes
skate around the stench of death
clutching my last breath
is this my end?
friends stab me in the back
they didn’t think my soul would stand
lost women who claimed to be a catch
afraid to react when my heart attacked
expect me to pick you up
when your emotions crashed
a hopeless mass, broken stash, open cash
I hope it lasts, frozen raps
rolling with homies that know the truth
killing rappers in the vocal booth
speaking in coded roots
Guillotine heads rolling through
watch me bestow it
I know it, but now they know I know it
Patient King
Woke up to a new era
welcome to the terror dome
where nuclear winter burn slow
give up your dough
and everything you own
here's a toast for gambling with your soul
politics play out over newscast and television shows
bagging up hatred and selling it as dope
trading melanin for hope
choking on elements of rope
hold my smoke
while I calibrate this scope
center rage
better aim
enter fame
letters played for the revolution
nothing's conclusive
protect one another
they got the guns
we got the numbers
looks like we're in for another hot summer
Tape Deck
Soldier of rap culture
hills to die on
kill these slang vultures
bullet holes and lipstick
arraign my framed poster
tight around loose lips
fuck a flag
my moods gripped by quarantined vibes
serpentine wind through the minds grind
as the lines dry like the blood of my pen died
speak to dominant dreamers
Mexican brown reefer
as my new leader, Infinity stone seizure
cinematic vision as my dome pleaser
Guillotine is so ether
your souls can’t reach us
like leper’s who need Jesus
let my name reign for all seasons
Hills
Push the envelope
swing the pendulum
pens coated in adamantium
weapon x survivor
making my walk through hell fire
all the more liver
got god reclined in the clutch of Scott Steiner
Guillotine Scream Phoenix
my cannibal ox fiendish through all season’s
sick of blood in the streets, it ain’t scenic
shatter the glass ceiling, pick up the pieces
slash the throats of my demons
as a beacon of hope, slow to a slow coast
admire the pictures I painted over the years
facing my ears, fighting back tears
siphoning fears into gasoline speeches
to rattle these leeches
kill your masters and embody new leaders
watch their words burn into the ether
mess with my family, you’re greeted with
red dots, heat seekers and cleavers
pumped with holes until your body seizures
meet earth, buried in my hills to die on
Ghostface killing it, face covered in nylon
The Product
Ignorance makes me want to leave Twitter
shutdown the whole system
and let the rhythm hit ‘em
surrounded by absurd turns
the world burns in the viral surge
some white kid threads the needle
with N words claiming that he’s equal
connections with people is illusion
cruising the echo chamber for bangers
dodging anger from wannabe stars
falling in love with avatars
experience marred from false hope
cerebral dope, non matching GOATS
and cut throat facts, sit back,
to watch people react
to hot trash takes from newscasts
like the world is full of iconoclasts
bask in my lineage of underground rap
digital dap and thirst traps
grab the burner
Guillotines crashed the server
shoutout to Dart Adams and Hex Murda
Art Dealers
My life's candor
gets trapped in life patterns
wrapped in mics rapture
remain my pen master
art dealer, street pastor
ink anger bleed after
sleep in the minds of strangers
then dream after
light cannabis to green pastures
draw nightmares between screams, laughter
breed factors for change
engage in episodes of the strange
that enslave the plane for advancement
supply paint for grand standing
living on a pixelated earth
encased in bad graphics, craft magic
beliefs of dominance creeped in opulence scenic profit binge
ending hollow trends wearing graffiti on my skin
drums of war escalate sonic bids
mindful within, prideful within
to reflect psycho revenge
penning bars from hard marble
Frida Kahlo scarred sorrow
bangin street art like there’s no tomorrow
Miracles
The further in life I get
the less I remember
looking to legends and mentors
as my protector, peep the lecture
take their gems and make em’ fresher
feel the pressure, on a bender
cuts to the bloody center
billed for services rendered
runnin’ jewels like Michael Render
here’s where hope enters
women popping over chrome fenders,
dough catcher
the window for success is so slender
many won’t enter, world ender
shot to your widows peak, the future’s bleak
hear my speech at the epicenter
Guillotine heavy weight contenders
fate always remembers
Heaven never was a lender
she always comes for the cheddar
keep 36 Chambers loaded like RZArector
wake up to the sun’s glimmer
sipping coffee from French pressers,
penning letters
Rebel Crowns
Blocks, gats and raps
ducking thirst traps
kids, cats and raps, a new path
Time had its hands around my neck
claustrophobic breathe
reflect on my gang days
I was Flavor Flav with a 12 gauge
masking the pain in a purple haze
looking to get my art framed
in the minds or galleries
trading in the corner for salary
which life was lived more valiantly?
electricity at my fingertips like Palpatine
paces stream free when your value’s freed
speech feeds seeds, whether it’s lyrics
or knowledge of the spirit
most don’t have their words cherished
until after they’re dead or perished
its why I’m mic doc’n like Erick and Parrish
dreaming of money in back packs
floating through Paris earning my merit
me and my daughter
share the same wild crocodile smile
keeping you a blade tip away from exile
broken rhythms with women
keeps filling up my ex files
God Save Us From The Devil
God body in the human spirit
altercations and penning lyrics made you fearless
pain and anger love to be your muse
bullet riddled bodies still in view
frustration and hatred in the queue, let it stew
your city’s dying, what to do?
gold plated dreams and dirty faith
dapping up friends with empty face
kids disappear without a trace
I’m supposed to wait for the Bible quote to save the day, let us pray what a waste
drowning in the chase screaming into space leaning into taste
heathens in their place, demons in my face
Jesus on the case
easing on the weight rolling off my back
holding on the mask, exposing all the mass
trolling off the tracks, floating through the cracks
frozen all the rats, posing in the traps
closed in heart attacks, popping off the gats
holding off the threats, walking on the net
closing off my breath
oppression architects cashing all the checks
the devils silhouette
please release the rest
therein lies the fucking disconnect
Killer
I don’t cry when cops die
but you never ask why
blue lives matter is a lie
another sign of oppression
disconnected from protection and service
blue lights still make me nervous
is this going to be my last breath
sick of black death
and the same old stories
turned into blood orgies
a bullet in our head, now you’re sorry
all of sudden it’s some sort of allegory
stuck in the doesn’t happen category
if I show resistance
I’m complicit in non compliance
deserving of the violence
it ain’t science
cops exercise their right
to keep us silent
they wonder why we riot
we’re dying on this non freedom diet
White America wouldn’t dare try it
now you know why I’m crying
grieving for lost souls
in nightmares underneath my eyelids
Origin Stories
As the seasons changed
so did my bastard frame
began to masquerade the pain
packed a faster blade
for a long time death was certified
never afraid to die, life verses time
love had me blind
written lines traveling the blue skies
survived a summertime of lies
reborn in the winter wars
return to the trenches
with Ghostface rifles in the kitchen
freestyle sessions with my henchmen
penning more bars than a prison sentence
had me disconnected from this dimension
at the mere mention
of hitting astral planes, flame your brain
hit the stage, taste of fame
bag the change, bang the cage
went from heartbroken to rap monster
where I’m from, you talk shit
we hit you with the pistol opera
Champions
They say I'm too old for this rap shit
I'm just here to bring some balance to your actions
went from stashing semi automatics underneath my mattress
to under ground champion
gangsta rap lit
punishing you with bully rap clicks
memory lane induces bad trips
find salvation in the classics
exit pain stage left, stay fresh, pray less but me and God still on a first name basis
can see it on the prettiest of faces
dedicated to the homies catching cases
caged in the metal matrix
you're in my graces on these pages
without you I wouldn't have a chance to make it
shape shift, spray clips
weight lift the world off my shoulders
give Destiny something to be proud of as she gets older
money folder, surrounded by coffins and toasters
name in lights, signing posters
living life how I'm supposed to
cinematic vision, not in the material sense
but in the literal sense
to have my spiritual blessed
Generosity
Happy new year depression
it’s just me and you again
finding new ways to explore the connection
generosity what is it?
is it mom cooking for strangers in the kitchen?
is it one day without pain and sickness?
fighting to survive the new version of mankind
working full time struggling to pay my bills, popping pills, faith kills
went from heavy thinker to heavy drinker
once again on the brink of suicide
darkness paints realms inside my mind
violent by design unless I find something to supplement my next high
fighting time, struggling to stay alive
back to the point I don’t believe there’s a god
don’t you think that’s kind of odd
since I’ve spent years talking about the strength of our bond?
gone baby gone is the illusion of freedom of expression
making America great again
through systematic oppression
arrogance stopped us from taking heed to previous lessons
ostrich heads buried in the sand
until the epidemic scurried in the hands of those not affected
murders of my people where considered clandestine
until cellphones popped the pandemic
finally did America believe these klans meant it
generations lusting off the blood fetish
cultural appropriation took away our one weapon
well, I got my guns loaded come get it
let the bullets fly
I love my people, bear witness
I won’t stop until we’re cured of the sickness
and the oppressors recognize our image
Gods Aim
Chicago Bullish
tattooed in the name of Chicago bullets
Chicago ruthless
blood stained with Gods aim
disdain for Gods name
display my inner Gods pain
for Gods sake
who does God thank
when the winds of change reign
forcing my face an odd blank
I walk this odd plank
screaming at the skies
with Gods rage
turn with Gods page
pray where God lays
played in Gods day
happy in plans God laid
tapping into Gods vein
smoking out Gods strain
using faith to act out Gods play
it all works out in Gods way
praise to Yawah
live from the inferno of Dante
Gods Waiting Room
Summon the many arms of Vishnu
to illustrate what I been through
born from a crippled stencil
automated Denku tenchu
walk with so much end view
people ask which God sent you
world’s built on penciled lectures
submerged in clockwork textures
so the masses don’t forget you
words Ginsu stick you
to the point the hands of fate won’t stitch you
mutilated cuts over Nasa’s instrumental temper
the previously expressed views represent Fuze
anything else is a flagrant fuck you
like when El Producto was shakin’ Russell
or when Kimora was takin’ Russell’s pape and hustle
suck it ride ride the snake head muscle
in IPod’s I’m God
uncivilized like Jews scribin’ Muhammad’s face in krylon
eating pigs in eye shot
rockin’ Mein Kamph
screamin’ my God this is what I’m on
from the top of Mt. Zion
battling Jesus Christ and Dylon draped in Izod
cross the pylon 7 points
like when 85 percent find God
my career won’t be defined by nine shots
lifter of gall to elevate a brawl
will the gangsters pop off?
Naw I don’t think they got the balls
bullet casings tappin’ your jaw
until my thumb compresses gun powder into your skull
defying physical law leaving onlookers in awe
I speak through revelations of man
to withstand the pressure of granite and sand
stained glass cuts the prophets hand
blood becomes toxic dislodging DNA strands
turnin’ Yaway to man
and for a moment my soul was hemoglobin
stolen where the remedies to destroy mythological enemies
which became amenities to put men at ease
then turn around and make the word of God an obscenity
makin’ the planet a universal centerpiece for sinful pedigrees
humanity rock carves, the rock starves
my shadow has no choice but to lounge under dog stars
waiting to shed some light on my insight
shove a knife through my eye socket
so my mind gets the point
anoint the circumference of world a perfect circle
summoning enough inertia to bring down
three dimensional sunspots to burn you
with no where to turn to
your views blistered in discontent during winter
like homeless alcoholics juggling bursting vodka bottles over exposed livers
shiver at the thought of normality
the heavens patterned me at the peak mastery
in kings majesty making my earth eclectic
birthing my music soul child
somewhere between the gangsta era and Afro centric
Gorgeous
Dear journal my outlook has become nocturnal
with nothing to turn to spiritualism is segregated
wondering if the entrance to heaven is gated
or is inner peace exaggerated?
walkin’ with castrated brain matter
calculating deaths data into physical matter
wanting it the moment after
masqueraded declaration of struggle
secreted from amniotic muscle
vaginal walls begin to crumble
giving my eyes something to sun to
words of expression are muffled from artistic hustle
as the power of God comes through
the world just assumes then deducts you
while previous beliefs you’ve run to shun you
minuscule ridicule is burden of genius
in my dreamin’ I team with demons
to slap the be Jesus out Christ
with the might of mankind
to give him insight on what its like
to live a life inside his light
falling off the pedestal
readies you to be tailored for failure through anger
then turn around and praise her
for favors from the saviors you’ve already alienated
not realizing you’ve cut off your ears to think in silence
close your eyes and see the world the way God designed it
I’ve blown out the 24th candle on my birthday cake
to calculate the weight of mistakes
made against the world that ain’t
riding the faint taste of fate
as happiness escapes each time my heart palpitates
scowl in amazement at the smiling faces
that strayed from my graces on my training day
applaud change but I’m afraid
I’ve missed my opportunity to gain a leg on the human race
tainted pages paced with patience
parallel with endangered statements
paraded by abrasive language
ending the novel idea/ that I’m a descendant of Pangaea
I see a beacon of glimmer
as holy water simmers in sinners
as scriptured pictures become what my life is framed in
I walk in a misshapen body
oddly enough my tear ducts/ scream I don’t give a fuck
tears of joy deploy for a boy who’s become a man
has yet to understand God’s plan
that was predated when his soul took a vacation in the physical Matrix
and got caged in my hope floats
Don't Feed The Machine
I awoke somewhere between the war of ambition
teetering on the line of fact and fiction
getting burned by the friction
of self savior and victim
enriched with not so God like decisions
birthed within the laws written
plagued by the infinite question
whether religion is a creation of God?
or is God a creation of religion?
to keep us livin’ in the perforated image
christened in our own obsession and sickness
pushin’ the limits conjured by existence
life is a game of inches
but its hard to move forward
when you lack the vision
to judge the distance to the finish
a dishwasher in Hell’s kitchen
drowning in black holes
once covered by my burned bridges
walk a mile in my shoes
if my angels permit it
consumed by daily pace
getting a leg up in the human race
do my features still describe a human face?
capable of human grace?
wondering if I put my heart again
will there be someone who takes?
chase my convictions of spiritualism
didn’t inherit my fathers alcoholism
but I got his rage and pain
coursing through my veins
his muted traits is what my music makes
hold it back and let my dreams react
to the ghost of the man in black
Open time, open door
open mind, open sore
open scheme, broken dreams
broken breathe, don’t feed the machine
This one goes out to my biological father
who didn’t bother after takin’ my mother to the alter
sought to destroy his creations
pushing women to devastation
forcin’ them to touch elevation
rethinkin’ the scope of the presentation
separation all in a blink
lost soul in the drink reflect in the sink
oldest son on the brink of drugs and jewelry
back then that’s what suited me
listeners will understand if they knew
how the hunger pain were doing me
I thought weed, sneakers and women
were the proof of me
til friends were murdered brutally
bullet wounds shook in me
that the hand of God wasn’t movin’ me
now I’m cruisin’ streets with my grandmothers wisdom
she said not to be a victim of the system
be the voice of the people
shine the worded image on their sickness
show the children there’s more to life
than hustlin’ in front of buildings
there’s lots of things in the world that can kill them
that the world can build them
if they let go the feeling of the ceiling
and bring a difference element
with my last will and testament
this ones dedicated to my wastelands brethren
I’m sorry our music didn’t do a better job to better men
I guess the world wasn’t ready to take the medicine
Poison Makes Me Pretty
Welcome my world how to begin it?
limped into Nasa labs on a mission to quiet the cynics
overhaulin’ my life from a distance
civilence mic check one, two
couldn’t walk in God’s shoes even if I want to
its not that I don’t love you
its just I got another place to run to
giving pain the old run through
ask yourself this
what if your heart pumped you
full of women’s indignants
or watching your best friend
get overcome by addiction
then not giving the message of his sickness
then witness his younger sister
get imprisoned by promises of wedding kisses
mixing love for good dickin’
then herself turn to syringes
while the world says good riddance
no rest for the wicked
ever since I made the decision
to wrap my five digits around a pistol
made my final wishes cursed a couple bitches
squeezed the trigger
awoke alive as the voice of the underprivileged
ever since a Cannibal Ox told me to scream Phoenix
surrounded by pigeons fighting for crumbs and inches
protected by God’s vision
the peoples fist has arisen
Today pain placed a number on the age of innocence
I died a little inside when hardcore went impotent
bags under my eyes indifferent to images
of my grandmother injecting insulin
or havin’ to find my friend overdosed on heroin
for the sake of keepin’ this conversation spirited
why was life so hard
when I had to pull the needle from his arm?
wanted time to restart
when I had to call his wife
to tell her life changed
all because he found that vein
too selfish and vain to explain to his kids
he had no will to live
it’s shit like this that makes me want to reattempt
to put a bullet between my lips and french kiss death
what do I got to miss?
heaven won’t even tell me she loves me
the greatest love to never happen
heart broken in fragments
dead with passion my reaction
why won’t the hand of God touch me?
why does the devil try and fuck me?
I guess I’m what happened to ugly
Spirits of dead friends walk in the rain
soul rage paints with blood of the slain
8 blunts of flame straight to the brain
bounce in and out of sane
tryin’ to embrace 99 names
shaking the angst of deception
fallen friends, injections
time tested aggression
buried within the shadow of the half moon crescent
all I’m left with is the curse of God
oh God, I’ve cursed God
God damn it I hate this planet
and the fact I’ve taken my life for granted
while the rich allow the poor to to be stagnate
my spiritual conviction inches me closer
to believe love is wicked
hum du allah, pushed into the arms of a broken star
when the sun filled that void
while the dark side of moon left me destroyed
bring on the ‘noid heard a voice ask me
if I’m friends with God
or friends with Satan
It depends upon the situation
my dreams flip through pages of anguish
cleansed with wisdom of the ancient
chasing the life force that loves me
til then I ask what happen to ugly
Pollination
106 DEGREE HEAT INDEX
DROWNING IN A SEA OF MENTAL IMPOTENCE
I GUESS IGNORANCE IS BLISS
WAITING FOR THE SWITCH
PECKED ON THE CHEEK BY FATES PERFECT KISS
MY INDENTS ARE STIFF
AT THE END OF MY ROPE
RATHER BE RESPECTED AND BROKE
THAN THE BUTT OF A JOKE
HOLDING ON TO HOPE
THAT I FIND MY PLACE IN HISTORY
LOOKING TO GOD TO CURE MY MISERY
BUT HE HASN’T BEEN A FRIEND OF ME
SINCE I LEFT JESUS STANDING AT THE MEZZANINE AT 16
KARMA STEPPED IN TO INTERVENE
AND COMPLETELY CHANGED THE WAY THAT I REACH
THE WAY THAT I BLEED
THE WAY THAT I TEACH
MY HATRED CAN BE FOUND IN THE PAIN THAT I SPEAK
AND THE RAGE THAT I PREACH
SPACE HOLDS THE KEY
TO THE PRAISE THAT I SEEK
THESE ARE THE DAYS THAT I LEAVE BEHIND
TRAPPED IN TIME
GIVING SIGHT TO THE BLIND
WHILE FIGURING OUT MY OWN DESIGN
WONDERING IF I SUFFER FROM THE SAME AFFLICTION
AS MY FRIENDS WHO FELL TO ADDICTION
MARIJUANA AND PILLS CHANGE MY POSITION
CLOUDING MY VISION
FORCING ME TO SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN
UNABLE TO FOCUS ON MY FRACTURED REALITY
WAITING ON LOBOTOMY AND TOXICOLOGY
TO TOUCH OTHER GALAXIES PROVING VALIDATION
FOR MY VERBAL MASTERY
SCREAMING FUCK THE UNIVERSE
FOR ALWAYS HARASSING ME
I REFLECT ON THE DAYS SPENT
FREESTYLING TO MYSELF ON THE PARK BENCH
CRAFTING MY WORDS TO BECOME A MARKSMAN
LEARNING TO HARNESS THE POWER I WAS GIVEN
WATCHING PENS AND PENCILS STIFFEN
TURNING INSTRUMENTALS TO LIQUID
LETTING THE WORLD KNOW ABOUT MY SICKNESS
PUTTING ON A MASK
LIKE DOOM AND STANLEY IPKISS
TO PROTECT MY PSYCHE AND FRAGILE IMAGE/
FRONTING OFF LIKE I WAS LIVING
DEEP DOWN I KNEW/ THE HEAVENS WERE LIVID
BECAUSE I TOOK UP RESIDENCE IN HELL’S KITCHEN
ONLY THE DEVILS LIPSTICK PROMISED TO FIX
THE FRUSTRATION I LIMP WITH WITH THE QUICKNESS
SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA LIVE INDIGNANT
TO APPRECIATE THE FEELING OF SUFFOCATION
POLLINATION, ELATION, ELEVATION
EMOTIONAL SCARS WORN AS MEDALS OF DECLARATION
BRING ON THAT NUMB SENSATION, HIBERNATION
From Save The Horn
Berserker Fury
Don’t let ‘em push the button cousin
who let the dusted gluttons in the function?
this ones dedicated to the baby boomers
daily gloomers who maneuver through the future
with scalpel and suture gettin’ the world wide open
takin’ back the stolen notions that
there’s no hope for the hopeless
while the soulless steal our token
forcing us to roast the potent
pour the Molsen holdin’ our emotions
while they steal the word from the pulpit
ignoring the fact the globe is more corrosive
focus, chokin’ on nuclear wind
back then when me and Stukin the kid
where boozin’ the gin, cruisin’ for chicks
not realizing sin was the movement within
penning anthems for the masses
bringing forth this classic
unleashing the magic of the manical ox
who unlocked the lock that my mandible got
birthing my own radical rock
letting go of fanatical plots
I’m going down in a blaze of shots
rot in eyes of judge and jury
feeling my berserker fury
Doomsday Device
Hey yo peace God
I said peace God
over centuries many have tried to beseech God
unpiece and then reteach God
in their own vision and image
somebody please seat the cynics
but I didn’t convey McVey
and when the towers came down
I was angry my eyes were misty
that day I was a resident of New York City
you couldn’t shift me from in front of the TV
believe me my brain was bludgeoned
from hours of news coverage
that’s something I’ll never forget in my lifetime
but then we disrespect the dead
with talk of conspiracy theories and oil pipelines?
I was disgusted with negativity portrayed towards Muslims
like we got together at a function
and celebrated the anguish
that people felt searching for family
revolution didn’t come from calamity
now I’m supposed to give up/ my shot at mastery
because some terrorists got fed some bullshit at an extremist factory?