THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

[Mr. J]

My thoughts melt into a puddle Im muddled
I struggle to find the meaning behind the hustle
a big fuck you to those who are lookin for trouble
I love you & hate you, but Id hate to become you
quick to scuffle, shots blast & easily outrun you
what do the signs lead to when you bleed blue
I bleed red & make a deal just to see the equal
your thoughts leak through a bandana to greet you
I see you, with your judgmental ass on a steed who...
rides in the sweet blue sky...me I wear a cheap suit
cheap shoes, no ties needed, in the ground I leave you
the modern day evils, raise flags for the street use
align to these dudes who claim theyd never leave you
what a silly predicament that lacks sentiment...
you brother to many men but that also implements..
blood in, blood out, no need to be a mexican.
your next to kin could be in the hole you end up in
thats what you get for meddlin with that metal &...
riding them blocks, backseat pop down, hiding em glocks
when they ride through they always timing them shots
grinding in spots with undercovers who are silent or not
who cares...you tying them knots & buying them lots...
got your grandmother on the northside right in the shops
purchasing new furniture while you high off them rocks
whether you provided or not you still wind up in a box
ready to pop like Jack, slipping of shots of cognac...
BLAT...