Dim the lights & gimme a mic/
then listen to the beats, poems, raps, & life/
fist in the air but nobody here to fight/
this is my blackness without the absence light/
This is me in the 3rd degree/
that mean the 3rd person/
slip of the tongue & that will be hurting/
not the 3rd or the 2nd/
but the 1st & i reckon/
that this proud/
Soul whether it be young or old/
my chest pump hot blood but from a heart mad of cold stone/
so new scuffle I'm in wait till the dust settle/
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