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Luda muggin’, Jay hiding, Tip zoning, i had blond ambition for a movie, Tank was taking the pic & you was in your bag....same ole Kev. Your worth was high level when we had pennies. Long time my bro. Proud of the SOAR you made outa your pain joy & gifts. Mama is proud. Happiest WORTHday our beloved brother.
What a journey yours has been my G. I appreciate forever the front row seat for a major part of it. Happiest WORTHday brother. 💪🏾
Haven’t done one in a while. This 1 is worthy. In a space of time where other races are finally demanding that our country value us, the million dollar question is....do we value us? The question, though rhetorical, can be answered. I had a brotha comment on a post of mine yesterday with a very LOST question, “Can you just be normal?” Left me blown. That question was of zero rhetoric. & i can answer with a resounding...HELL NO. & noooo one around me can be or think normal. Thank you Erika James for not being & not thinking normal. Pour into this role & leave your mark on Wharton forever...
My bro @illsurge gifted me with this...
Here’s my gratitude:
** They say the higher we climb
The thinner the air
I say the harder we grind
The less number of people get to be there
& i say the smarter you rhyme
The more you get to share
So the older i get
The colder i spit all that’s in here
Thank God the Father i had a father who cared
As the papa to mine
I’m just trying to leave some gems underneath their hair
Trying to joe proctor their mind
So by the time they reach them pearly gates
God can judge em fair
I been the pantomime of a Benja...mine wit 3000 poems floating in that same air
Luther’s house ain’t a home
Cuz i broke the chair
From all the weight i carry on my bones
Covered by the same ‘Skin’ as Rag ‘n’ Bone
Dirty Di been a friend of mine
Til his Jackson & miss Jackson both glad when i was gone
But the other MJ wit the same fade away...
My comeback been strong
Devil on my right shoulder
& he keep pressing that wit the same ding dong
til my microphone crack
so my chorus be high when i sing a song
Blood in my left eye
Bout to drown from all the love turned inside out
wit a burnt crown above
like i was king kong in a 14 round bout
Got 1 left to go ‘fore the crowd count me out
My right eye green wit envy
Jealous of everything God done said i should be
Til I write all them wrongs that be holding down the good in me
Even after they read this scroll
Most would’ve misunderstood me
Most still think ghost is all i could be
But before they can blink eyes
I done knocked down 4 more trees without a sound
& like the saying go....just cuz wasn’t no one around in them woods B....don’t mean they ain’t hit the ground from ALL i would be
God wrote that shit down....
& for all those who understood me
My scars done reopened now
but they still require a mask
& 6 degrees of separation from the fire i breathe before i pass
In a world of make believe & desperation for fact
Hope my words make you believe
in the elevation of every food for thought you took out your sack
& if you was ever close to me
Hope that heart on my sleeve make them degrees even closer than that
But ain’t no cape here
Just trying to bring a better future back.
Yours is a story of whole
Yours is a story adding life up enough to regain control in the midst of knowing what it feels like to have lost enough of everything you were sold
Yours is a journey of smooth sail & gurney
Yours is a trail of heaven & hell
Yours is a pale of fail but BIG win
Yours is a course in gentle force with a tailspin
Yours is of course the amazing raising of 4 men
1 was even a brother named Ken
Yours is ride or die but too tuff to let your tears roll
So you let your sores cry
Yours is the story of full belief but always some worry
At least for Malik Jamil Shani & Omari
Mirror mirror on your walls of sorry
You look deep inside ...
Until you accept all the jekyll & hide of your story
Yours is the story of God’s Glory.....like no other
Yours has left a legacy of road hits the rubber
Yours is winning the wars in the battles with life’s mess
Yours is the many tours of progress
Yours are the scores of success
of which you endured until it assured the best of Grandmother
at play & at rest
Happiest WORTHday my beloved Mother
Because of you....
Mine is a story of God Bless.
When i was 24
Kicked in like the door
maybe 4 were insecure
Back when i was “nobody” & poor
way most black men have been perceived by OUR american league before we figure out how to score
We only take knees cuz our hearts are sore
To give time for the part of the flag with the stars to restore
To give time for the guards who hate our dark to see us as more
while the trees blow in the breeze that carted us off to rest in peace still endure
The noose probably still unsure
As to what it was needed for
Strange Fruit they tried to get me to eat
When i was 24
1 past Jor
a young Kobe without the final score
200 lbs. or more
Whistling a tune
Fugees the score
It was hot.....maybe June
I was the dirt...they were the broom
I fit the description of doom
A born poet who wrote inscription inside Mama’s womb
On the ground told to NOT MOVE!
So they choked
I whispered to God
I even wrote
Had no pen
Used the blink of my eye
Used the ink of 2 women & 5 men
Who were trying to write me into wrong
Bleeding me my rights
Cuz i resisted 10 seconds too long
I insisted they had it wrong
They inflicted more cuz i was strong
Just cut from the NFL
Looking up to Heaven ....screaming “What the hell?!”
But when there’s 7 it’s harder to yell.
12 round sound of the bell
They learned i was the wrong one found
But then again....we all looked alike back then & well.....we still do now....
“Go back to whistling
Maybe next time listen when....we say knees on the ground!!” Wait..i thought..never mind...
Home of the free been a game of Simon Says when them knees are brown
Guess Colin was too worn down to wait for the sound
I wasn’t killed that day
So i kill when there’s verses to relay
So i kill in every rehearsal or play
every role God kept me around to portray
Ghost to Andre’
Every black kid who needs me to help them & the town
they’d kill to help find a way
even when that same town looks the other way....
So i kill when I pray....that God continue to restore all the love & pain i use to say:
From George to Gray to Elijah to Tray, your lives matter even more TODAY. So i’ll be the ghOst of every word you never got to say....
To the day, to the year, to your future brotha. May it be 4 fingers way UP ✌🏾✌🏾.
A Papa on his throne & his royal court.....without which i’d be a lost puppy. I love you both more than life. You are my lil queen & king in the making. I vow to pour into that making no matter what it takes. The greatest job ever gifted to me. Thank you God for the anointing. Thank you @mrsjaeh for the SupaNova & BraveBuffalo. I love You & you nailed it!! Thank you my highly energetic passionate smart precocious powerful crazy looooving Vuvvi & Buffalo for the castle & crown you’ve given me!!
—-Forever in love. **Your other best friend, -Papalicious The King ❤️💜
#HappyFathersDayToALLyouGreatOnes #HappyFathersDayToALLofYouTRYING #ShoutOutToMyFellowBlackFathers