Life In A Shell (Ft. Numskull)

[Saint]

we both took different aspects...num did his on a more personal level, i did mine on a more broader scale

NumSkull
Shit I've been, losing my brain..
..Due to restraints cued in the same
Part of my soul as that carton of Old
English, 40oz. and a carton to smoke
Newport 100's...
...Marking my lungs
Shades of black, tar in my gums
...Fade to black
Bullet after bullet.. it's all I show
..Bullshit laugh then bullshit.. is all that knows
I used to write to vent...
...Writing shit, used to decipher wit
In the back of my mind..
..Smile is a shield.. to laugh at the times
When the mirror shows...
My image, not centered it begins to show
My weakening soul...
And my focus is beginning to go
Render me whole..
How to be an athiest, just saying shit
Then crying during the nights when I'm laying stiff
Asking god, why'd I get sprayed with clips
But my dry eyes, won't let my cries evade my lips
So while I, lie woke my whole right side, bandaged with
White ties, the bright lights left me branded with
A focus, so heavenly he's sparing me, why though
My pride's low.. thinking of seven keys...
.. Of coke is why my block's been unfair to me
Eye's low, my mental process is think and reaction
Blinking so fast and...
...Drink then I'd hit the sink with a passion
Water to wine...
...Thinking that my line is ordered in time
The next dead body will be the martyr of mine
But, more than the times..
..I've been shot, I've seen people laid to rest
My boy Rob who followed me to take my steps
It sorrows me, he couldn't evade the techs
Tomorrow brings pain...
...So I wake a mess
But, I'd probably be dead...
...If I didn't use the raps to fuse a map
Walk it, with so much anger I leave abusive tracks
Due to facts...
I've seen life and death it's bruised my back
...I've made it now..
there's no way that I'm losing that

USER
theres so many people willing to witness..
Bush killing existence
for the fast buck, with tax cuts, costing millions to business
its too thrilling to miss it..
it's like im seeking obsession
for some kind of meter, some feature or message
as to why my average grace
coupled with my average face, are my only Means of expression..
ive got this savage plan... to give my past a chance at the love
only to have it broken
cuz at the moment
im only half the man of the half of the man that i was
ive never brandished a gun
havent taken a life; never rehearsed it
cuz ive never been perfect
and in my mind, you find time
to respect that same hole you're shoveling dirt in
but have you ever reversed it?
been the guy embelished with wealth?
dwelled on his health?
and when that one glock bursts
what drops first...
the shell?...or the shell of himself?
can you tell if its felt?..
see..there's a pattern in it, when
the man with the wealth
asking for help...is your average citizen
the man with the gun
is having his fun...and he's too maddened to let him win
so he's passive, as he blasts him with the shit again
so run if they reach you
cuz the man with the gun?...thats you're government, people...
having fun as he beats you, its too scary it seems
to bare on these themes
that we're not just shells of ourselves...we're shells of our American Dreams