by Patrick ‘StP@’ Bailey II
Tryna figure where I’m from,
Wana know how I got here,
Tryna find out where I’m headed
What my next step is, I’ll tell you,
From the dirt,
On the flip side of the Earth,
From a line of Kings and Queens-
The seed don’t fall far from the tree,
I’m the first,
Born
First to rise,
The oldest son
They won’t let me shine,
But I’m gon’ shed my light,
Through the grapevine till I taste wine – but
wait life
Isn’t sweet as they say it is,
It’s a bitter bitch at a pic-a-nic,
With liquor, lynchings, & licorice,
And I got “ripe-for-the-picking” pigment,
Want me thinkin’ I clutched the short end of
stick, I beg to different,
Cuz when life give me lemons,
I pimp that shit and ride in with an Xzibit,
Dawg, Someone saw and then got, Jelly
They ain’t never seen this much sauce,
So much sauce the Jim Crows couldn’t
pluck off.
This is not just some college wit,
I’m spittin “know how”-
You don’t know how deep the trauma gets,
I’m from the Marianas Trench,
Can’t destroy the kid,
But keloids on my skin from all the failed
attempts, But then again
Guess that’s irrelevant,
Such a strange fruit,
Where they hang noose, I hang loose,
The put the squeeze on me cuz I got the
juice,
Don’t get shit confused,
The whole world is pursuing,
Like I was for the consumer,
But, I can not let em consume me