The Story Goes On

His father died young, never knew him to shield him from the rain

Starting shooting heroin at fourteen to numb the pain

Track marks similar to tattoos tell the story of a sad fool

Tragic monologue of a man who became a victim of half-truths and whispered secrets

His own inner-demons, syringes and lesions

Crack pipes and binges for weekends

Led to benders and blackouts that last for seasons

For no apparent reasons, never had children

He was a child in a man’s body

Found joy in the thrill of the streets and crack parties

Robbing drug dealers, selling dope, selling soap

Locked in the belly of the beast where the felons roam

Gift of gab, quick-witted with the clever soul

Couldn’t keep him from catching a buck-fifty in his dome

Matter fact, more like 250, too shifty

His name was howie but on rykers island he was gypsy

Time and time again as I pick up the pen

As my thoughts emerge these are those words

I glance at the paper to know what’s going on

Someone’s doing wrong, the story goes on

A lot of stuff happens that the news won’t tell yous

Loose all L juice, snooze all hell loose

State of the slums, kill four, play the drums

Fake ones, they’re coarse with smiles and snake tongues

Fuck a clan or a cult man, I stand by my own

All by myself grown up but fuck you I’m abandoned, disowned

I’m alive and thrivin, drivin like a bandit with gold

You ain’t got no balls so you don’t understand it at all

I’m America’s nightmare, I’m a werewolf with soul

I’m unbearable with no fam I’m just terrible yo

I have hate in my heart so when I tear a new hole

In all your dreams and ideals, momma where would you go?

Watched my father betray me baby watched Erica go

That’s interference, I just wanted Terrence to grow

Steering clear of all these voices I can hear in my skull

Here in my head, surrounded by these spirits is dead

Who are you to trust and who I am to judge it?

This is do-or-die, suicide on a budget

You can hate or love it but I put it on my motherfucking mother

That I came out and I ain’t going back to the gutter