Been gone a minute incognito wore the mask to blend in soul still blak still hanging bush posters on the block to show who the real gangster is to show the leader of real criminal biz wiping the blood of dead children off ghetto street concrete still shedding trears for those gone to ensure my spirit is complete still spitting that prophetic **** like that man standing on top of the Statue of Liberty tip still walking around with my blak fist in the air cause a brother is thorough and I just don't care still squeezing the fat cats jackets until all the oil wrings out screaming like T.I. so "Bring 'em out, Bring 'em Out" still political as hell when I write but can break down that Love thing for moods at midnight can drop a haiku or free verse when I need maybe a cinquain or sestina indeed still grabbing mics when the stage is open standing tall and representing for all the strong brothers/no time to be a token still vandalizing deaf minds with sound with a boom bap or soul clap when it's time to get down still giving the hot foot to the new jim crow and most definitely to the new negros got 'em jumping around and doing the harlem shake the truth of words will make a fool shake Still combining nouns and verbs into a whole new language / verbal diction decisions have sentences gang banging / trying to annex paragraphs like the U.S. is doing Iraq / still keeping things righteous because I am that man blak. (c)2007 blakverb "a quik write" fam, old and new what's been good. It's been a minute. Always love.