Here I go again, grabbin my ankles like A brand new in-mate whose fresh off the bus, Fresh off the streets, fresh out of court, fresh in this 4x4 cell, fresh meat for the Fresh desires to comsumate I can’t help but wonder why I can’t see ‘em comin when they Smile in my face telling me how Much they need me to do the work Of three while getting paid for half Of one and yet my degree tells me I’m not reaching the glass ceiling Wonder why a B.S. and a M.S. will Take you to a Ph.D. and yet in this 4x4 cell called Amerikkka only sees these degrees in the my hands as Bull Sh*t and More Sh*t Piled Higher and Deeper after I worked half my life, paying $60,000 for them all and yet the first ones they come for to settle their debt is the one who ends up as a college trained burger flipper. Does my knowledge precede my melanonin? Or does my ancestry deprive me of $40,000 and a Lexus (updates 40 acres and a mule) when i enter the interview with all the training possible and yet the man next to me, whose father paid his way, paid his car, paid his home, paid for his clothes, paid for his High School diploma will get the job just because his father bought controlling share in the firm. This so called “Bull” market that selling me bull, shoving me with bull, telling me bull as I die from eating the bull and I look at my degree wondering why the one on the front is smiling at me like the bull on the back of a cigarette pack; Maybe it’ll get better in a bear market where I could bear the thoughts, bear the facts, bear the attacks and bear the crap as they strip me bare, while I barely survive in this bare-boned society called the ghetto.. my back is sore from the constant pressure of government spending ooops I mean government bending me over everytime my check reaches my hands and I still wanna know who is FICA for when I retire I still won’t receive the money back that he owes me from all these years of involuntary tithing to a god that will never do anything for me but incarcerate me for tax evasion, send me to war, me profiling a law, change the rules to make the rich richer and the poor deader, that now got me reaching for the floor just for balance. At least they could use Vaseline you think? can you bear with me for a moment while I grab my ankles?