My Pretty Wings

You're Gone & You ain't never coming back

I keep hope alive, only because my thoughts are twisted

I had to let you go

It wasn't you, it was me

I was a progress stopper in your progression to beauty

I made you ugly, got u outta character

I tested your will day-by-day

I abused you trust, manipulated u when u left

I'm addicted to you, but I just ain't good enough for u

Yeah...You love me to death, But love is not supposed to kill u

You sat back and watched me do dirt like the girl next door

Meanwhile i dragged your heart through broken glass on a floor

Simply put: You deserved more

So I had to leave

It's killing me to watch you spread your pretty wings

Like Father, Like Son

Eyes blood shot red

He can't believe what's being made of his kid

He won't speak on it, it's the elephant in the room

His son roams the street like a thief in the night

He's stealing dreams, fucking bitches daily

Planting & aborting seeds like crazy

Young, wild, & reckless

While the old man can detect this

He neglects this

He used to be this li'l nigga

This li'l nigga has no guidance,

Pops let the streets raise his son

He was there physically, financially

But never tried mentally

Never tried to get to baby boy's head

Now it's too late, baby's boy's dead

These are daddy's thoughts at this casket

Niggas be a father, you killing your son

If the streets crazed you, let you be the only one

Your silence can be just as hurtful as the violence

Don't contribute to genocide

Raise your son, Get rid of the foolish pride

Mission Statement

I live to love. That's my purpose. I live to do things that I love and want to do. I refuse to live for hate, and to make people envy me. That's a fucked up vision. That purpose is always chaotic; never really a moment of peace. I live to laugh, have fun, enjoy myself. Do things that generate good vibes. In some circles that's unpopular, also in some sub-cultures. It's immaturity. It's not possible to find peace or happiness when you try to get to that point by creating hate. It's kind of ridiculous if you think about it. Hate is used more often than love. When love is used, it used in vain. When you truly discover something that you love; nothing compares to it. I want a lifestyle that is fueled by love. Loving everything that I am doing and pursuing. I want that. Love is a state of mind that many people are scared to embody. Something is wrong with someone who just goes around loving everything. It's ok to love, just not so hard. It's ok to abuse love; use it in vain. Musiq described it best when he sang about it, "Love." I live to love.

The Like

Liking someone. The element that's overlooked and overshadowed by love. But nothing is quite like the discovery of liking someone. That initial feeling of tingling uncertainty. Not butterflies, but the newness feeling. Then the process of showing that person you like them. You kind of get out of your element a li'l bit. You read them your qualifications, tell them how good you are. You know? Trying to make a good impression OR you do the nonchalant thing. You play the "I'm Cool" card, or you act as if you got too much going onto be into someone (all while leaving the door open). You try to position this person to like you back. Sometimes you manage to get a couple of dates, see how things go from there. Sometimes that person just isn't into you. If you get that vibe initially, or feel that you like someone you couldn't/shouldn't like; you try to talk yourself out of liking them. This may be because of the perceived notion of that person, their past, your past, fear, things like that. So, you focus on their flaws, try to create distance and force a dislike. The heart produces and reacts to raw emotions. People do not like to refer to their heart in the stage of "like". While "like" may turn into a variety of things; good friends, best friends, close friends, a relationship, etc. It should be acknowledged.

What Do I Do?

Sit down. Listen. You're cool, we're cool. I enjoy the time I spend with you, especially when we're laughing and smiling. Your presence, the newness, it's a breath of fresh air. We do almost everything together. Your laundry full of my clothes, and vice-versa. Everything is cool for the most part. I got a few problems though. When we have sex.............We do not vibe sexually. Sex is not everything, but given out chemistry sex should be naturally fun. When we have sex, I don't feel you. You're kind of loose. No walls. I ain't insecure, and your past is your business. But when I'm in there I can't help but think who else has been there. I wonder what you've been through. Your precious asset has been used and abused. It's hard to say because I'm really feeling you. I just don't know what to do with damaged goods...

Ex-Factor

She has "green eyes",

A woman scorned,

An ex- relationship born

I'm a victim of her past,

Not her new ex, But the latest to get the axe

I was supposed to be a breath of fresh air

But she refused to breathe

She still stuck on dude,

She forced herself to leave

She wanted me to be everything he was supposed to be

Never took me for me,

Just a new & improved version of him

Love is not a competition

It's beauty that gets better with repetition...

Pure Girls

they say white make's the girls pure
so she got the purest form
she snorted
life in shambles over the baby she aborted
she didn't know who the daddy was
see, she lives the lifestyle of the rich & famous
yet she's poor & aimless
her features are what her admirers adore
she's a whore
night after night her drawers can be found on various penthouse floors
the party life, the fast lane
this was her gateway to the cocaine
oh! she this thing for champagne
Moet diets
she sleep from 9-5, drive a broke down 745
she get $500 there, a G there, 2 stacks there
all because she take backshots in the rear
sad story but save your tears
it's her life & she doesn't care
infected with a disease wih a unknown cure,
straighten her lines up, that shit is pure...