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Created in H.I.S. Image Lyrics
In the reoccurring nightmare of yr leaden stride, you'd skinned yourself in line in your real life. You passed off to my cousin what you hoped to resign, the doubt, dread, and mistrust you'd been assigned. It's just a waste of pain, to only live inside the limitations of a name. We all seek the privilege of privileged nonexistence, to fit into a mitten made of television, but I cannot speak to you. I fear your fear, I fear your fucking gun. I'm your manslaughter, forced in a satchel. I'm your enemy, also your army. I was given meat, and I could feed for a week. But give a nigga a brick and the whole neighborhood can eat. And if you always check to see if your the man of these streets, you miss the opportunities to see yourself in me. I lose the time to understand a hell I don't know, the failure to escape one of this white world's forms of mind control. And I silently sadly think of the impossible seeming unity of allies who look like me
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