As I piece together the fragments
Of my current understanding
I begin to comprehend the grounds on which I'm presently standing
Deteriorated down similar blocks that undergo sanding
As I Step on to the block I see them
Clocks don't move in tandem
Rolex enjoy first cla**
When them checker boards on one accord
Yet still we come in last but them checkerboards don't amount a score
Correct if incorrect but if not that
What they marched it for?
Seems that freedom lost allure
Kings and queens to pimps and who*es
Circa Selma 64
Lean the the dream against the floor
No King to gleam advanced to 4
See the scene beyond decor
Theirs bare theirs mullato galore
A Slave to trade
They claim to save
The wage to cage
Their only chore
Not hellbent
Just heaven sent
For benevolence
Show relevance
To evidence of
Ill intent
If it's real I'll vent
Same color skin from which the bullet was sent
Same color skin that'll paint the cement