Opening Monologue:
Yo! Here’s some stuff I learned when I was old. Every rhyme you write has a soul.
It has a life. You breathed in it! So don’t disease in it. More healing more so pease.
Please. You get it? Good.

Verse:
For the gods you feed in it, the odds you leave in it.
Think not? Believe in it.
At the close of manhood, you see different.
You reflect and reminisce but change interests.
You become more industrious, if you’ve worked as long as us,
and confirmed that the best way for us is us.
We trust in God, man is fickle.
Phony as a bright ass copper nickel.
Three for five dollars, it don’t mean shit.
When the value of five dollars can’t buy shit!
Dollars to pesos, live at six.
You don’t quite know who you fuckin’ with.
I can show you, better than tell you, that’s best this time.
Fire next time? Done last time.
You had a chance to wrong your rights.
But when right goes wrong Yo! it’s time to fight.
I float like a butterfly sting like a bomb.
You will say, “What the fuck’s goin’ on?”
Checkmate pawn, no Pun was intended.
Destined for greatness, then he ascended.
Like Elijah ascension, unexpected.
Twenty-eight so soon, I was affected.
I was twenty-six, his death hit home.
I hoped that he and Cube would write new songs.
And Joe and Cube would square it up.
Grow old together and make some bucks.
Like Cube and Common, they patched it up.
It warmed my heart in Barbershop.
I saw atonement, real to us.
Why Farrakhan is just best for us.
And Joel Osteen, magnanimous.
Inspired by powers higher up.
It’s evident it’s time to prequel sequels.
It’s evident all men created equal.
Three pop goes the weasel like Evel Knievel.
Kingdom bestial, ceased deceasing them.
From Nat King Cole back to Nat Turner teachin’ you.
Right before the, widowers peaked in you.
The widows would peak and the violence would cease.
Came back years ago, returned like a thief.
The lamb grew tired, the ram don’t sleep.
I’m tryin’ to learn you, you’re too dumb to think.
Keep your knives dull, I’ve sharpened my teeth.
Sharpened my pen, pad on its back,
Fucked the sheets! Came back comely!
Don’t follow me, I’m not interested, fellowships wreak!
I don’t get to know you, you left me in Crete Nigga!,
Upside down and left side weak.
Vision Peter with Pistol, Iron Sheiks.
I’m Omar Caliph, son of Ander.
Past purgatory, so fuck your slanders.
Candid candor? Can’t stand your standards.
Standin’ on bullshit, all you can handle.
All you can eat, you gluttony pig.
Gut him, fuck him up, punk his kids.
What we do is what you did.
Monkey see what monkey is,
Nigga fucked with the Comely Kid!
Removin’ my bib, playtime over, nothing under the bridge.
Light like lightning then thunder it is.
Nerd from the neighborhood, one of Herb’s kids.
Baby boy got big Blood, cousin got sig.
Related to both sides relativity kids.
Probably outside your matrix, mentally, physically fit.
Fit and finish, soundin’ splendid.
Blink done blessed me with this, hittin’ hard threw everything at it.
Kitchen sinkin’ this bitch.
Brother O, Black Drop niggaz misfits with this.
Havin’ a fit, consumption of nothing, it’s heaven sent,
Sike I’m highly hyped joint blunt and a fifth.
Started at three and got skipped,
gifted talented shit.
Fourth and fifth grade four months, shit promoted to six.
Ostentatious resilience, juggernaut in this bitch.
Knockin’ you over, barely bumped you,
baby Huey the shit, wicked as the wickedest witch.
Switch with a pitch fork.
Callin’ Olsen watching Mork on a Stork.
Hangin’ by a thread can’t take me to court.
Ordered vision, hearin’ cantankerous court.
Cantankerous court? Flashin’ in my head.
Seein’ habeas corpus, fuckin’ foreign forces.
Clouds then David Bennett, codes like Morse then.
Arepo Opera Tenet.
The Voynich Manuscript, inscribed within it.
Defined parameters, present tenses.
It makes no sense, but it sounds intense.
Heavy as a foggy dawn, hydrant open water on.
Hocus pocus! Word is bond.
Can’t tell you how long you’ve been carryin’ on.
You really never stopped, just changed your forms.
We know form and function fucker, fucked up the norm.
Storm, form and you can’t perform.
Just another limp dick at the door.
Don’t wanna be poor, tired of broke.
Make America greater? Promissory notes, promise to give me acres.
At this time fuck the mule G.
Grant me any V12 Benz and GMC.
I figure seven mil for each family that you sold for free.
In exchange for servitude, involuntarily.
Promise to pay every Black a mint.
If they prove Sub Saharan African descent.
Promise to give Natives their land back.
Promise for all the immigrants.
Who seek asylum, kingdom phylum.
Genus species, homonyms, human men, and women Man!
We said we found it evident, equality got set aside.
We thought in days you would oblige.
That was 1865, muthafucka what’s this? 1996.
Goddamn! It’s 2020, that makes no sense!
We know when shit is relative, we know when shit’s irrelevant.
We know how yo’ ass sees evidence, what’s evident, your truth looks bent.
Bend that shit back before we blow this bitch!
Literally Moby Dick!
Ismael start talkin’.
Black Drop, Blink, and O keep it walkin’ nigga!