Do I?... Man I cant lie I aint got **** I aint got to brag Im hard pressed for some cash to send to my ill dad An this mind block is drillin me, travelling willingly Aint got a phobia about planecrash killin me Im forced to flee im foreign Im from across the seas Unfortunately im fallin Its often they say i got a way with words I try killin my stress like Sadaam did the Kurds Thats to my brother locked up behind bars and courts While groupies in suits talk of crimes and torts My mother's jerkin tears awaitin tha phonecalls its sick so sick i cant stand this **** freewill probably phuked over our whole man-u-script Folk who spit like me deserves some sort of destiny no reason why i should live in a place where they shoot so free my circumstance is nuts or maybe its my preception of life its ugly truss I had this one poem i wrote a while back they say its not like rap not that rap is bad but my poems are more abstract more free of insecurities like tryna prove who i be more times travelled more thoughts unravelled more language to baffle u like a woman with a adams apple and THIS comin from a black muslim refugee?! who came to this country in like...1993 Can u imagine how much strikes they got lined up against me?? You'll get the details.. Dig the intricacies if u care to listen You'll hear the street tales but to no avail hear me convey the wisdom Therefore its best I switch over like a transvestite And leave poetry to those it holds captive in its cage makes a woman by its page and made a slave by its rage I only write when it comes to me Its an expression. They call it poetry.