Intro...by Musa

at times I hate I got my papa ways/ no days a fade/ the herbs at a higher grade/ processed no cure/ vision blur/ now how to heal the Nations/ Pastor leap but stop at Revelations/ negros became a project, given slums no Reservations/ fake donations/ unheard cases sealed/ as if my sister was killed/ for her will/ courts never solved the case/ fuck a jake/ a life, money can't replace/ which is a chase/ the message locked in the vase/ who at risk/ mama cry, papa pist/ family switched/ to each other were unknowns/ phone off hook, no dail tone/ our brains we don't own/ controled by the outside/ the dumb, deaf, and blind/ my daughter is my only/ other than that can't colone me/ situation everlasting/ my dawgs passing/ for air dem gasping/ mind blank what happened/ fire burn, no water from sky/ fuilds in the eye/ from the dead I reply/ I ask no questions nor do I seek answers/ no entertainment, no dancers/ just herbs planters/ what he did and how he did it was taught/ tool drity, but bought/ online sources/ shows who rode horses/ ain't no pride in this life style/ to make it worthwhile/ bodies float thru the nile/ in a basket was a child/ Musa, chants from the crowds/ it stink of buddah/ stuck in babylons Judah/ sword men/ to moor mens/ let not pretend/ we ain't got not no friends/ just family until end/ no bullshit to blend/