Resurrection

Blessings are Pouring down on me.
Reyalitee keeps me writing Poetry hoping this depression
that has come over me
could possibly
be my resurrection.
No, I’m not dead yet, but it’s miles before I get to heaven.
A Jesus has to die to make you believe, but I’m not checking that direction.

Stare your creator in the mirror, the future is in my hands but I always find ’em sweatin’
I’m not scared, I’m just at times unsure of them.

They fit to carry the world but I wish I had a few more of them.
Don’t judge me
how could you be so sure of them?
I see manicures and I be wanting to go to war with them.
Dressed in clear polish sometimes I wanna front like them.
But I don’t ever want like them.

Niggas Clock My block like a stopwatch to see how we run it.
Trynna touch my bulging holster, to see what my gun is.
Asking questions but Hrsh Reyalitee has no answers.
To get my secrets from me, they’d have to take Ekho for ransom.
Outlaw Pole Dancing,
and force my hand, son.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s