Sittin at the table with a plate full of almost able, crock pot stewin with false dreams and delusions, two pots boiling over with dishonor and mistrust, disrespect and misinformation, seasoned with hollow hope and phony elation-- sing for my supper, I refuse--shall I choose to use the tools I've learned to abuse? Is that what you want? I didn't think so... I took your pledge everyday till ninth grade and I'm still the man that my mama made You say I was given a chance? 'fore I learned to read I learned how to breakdance, or to do the wop, pop, or how not to stop rockin' till the break of dawn' How am I suppose to stand and go on? or walk away? when I am force fed the same meal everyday. **** it! my pants no longer fit I've been given a fork of your justice and a spoonful of bullsh*t. I think I'll gorge myself until I drop... for the man at the bottom haunts the man at the top And hope I get on your **** nerves since you don't seem to care how many people you serve. And laugh at this so-called feast you're feeding your ego and my beast. Come and bring on the first course each ladle draws closer the dark man riding his pale white horse.