On The Monday Blues

Humanity is sick and we are the virus.

Black and White.

Coherent distortion.

Times and tide.

Insistent deception.

Crammed with lies.

Of babes and rich session.

Damsels die.

Depression in session.

I look around.

Lost in all rounds.

People always lying.

Of a love they never experienced.

They all judging.

Yet saying nobody's perfect.

Humans are stupid.

And you, man, lying yet again?

Come on....

You just told me a lie,

Just two minutes ago....

It's a stress, it's a recess

It's all the guys that rhyme with Chess

And play with lives and say 'God bless'

It's all em guns up in my hood

And all them boys who done no good

Them bloods juss wann get some food

Them fools juss wann cop some shoes

You better hear them out.

They the youth.

You calling em gangstas and pranksters yet they gonna build the stool.

That you gon stand on us with be careful with rich people.

They feet smell cause they been using em to step over the poor and feeble.

It's a mess and a tie.

It's distress with no lie.

It's the state of the nation addressed with some salads,

Some opression,

Some deception,

Some depression,

Some recession and some salt,

Then the economy gonna come running down.

You better bet yet.

Run out of town.

I'll ask around though

Like I did ask around some time ago,

And y'all hanged me for a crime I didn't commit,

But well,

Accuse the dog,

And hang it right?


Why ask me for a vote,

Then hang me by the noose,

Not really a damn noose,

But pulling a trigger to my head,

By making me miss a meal.

Distensions and distensions.

Your pockets deeper than my hunger,

But why yes,

You don't care,

I'm the dust you brush off your car,

Each morning, you wake up.

Why tell me of a God living up in the heavens,

Yet you sleeping with my brother,

You say it's heathen,

But you doing it too.

You tell me of how he saves,

But how much do you show me,

Of how much he's saved you?

I mean, what's wrong with god I cry to,

Up in the hills,

And he still gives me rain,

And food,

What's wrong with him?

What makes you so right?

And what makes me so wrong?

Why sell me a song of therapy,

Then hand me the gun,

Sell me the pills,

Pass me the blunt,

Help me tie the knot,

Gimme the drugs,

Pass me the razor.

You can't be the chemist,

Selling me the sickness,

Yet wanting me a customer,

I'm waking up now,

I am rising from all this craft you make me practice,

You make me call other religions, sinners,

Other colors, my slaves,

Other political interests, an agenda,

I'm woke now,

I should open my eyes,

And see you as a dragon you are,

And not as the deer you paint yourself as

It's a fucking catastrophe...it's an anomaly,

Humanity is sick and we are the virus.

Society is a product and we are the buyers.

Calamity is evil yet we are the pious.

Scarcity mundane, rampant; yet we the people,

We the able,

We the strong headed we the stable

Just smile and ignore

While doing our chores and our drama galore

It's a skit gone wrong...it's blood and gore.

I'll talk about how you judge me today,

I'll talk about fake friends tomorrow,

Money, religion, drugs, the day after.

As far as I'm done,

I've had my piece to say and at the end of the day

I'm still gon go away


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