Curtain’s Never Close
I pen a thesis when my pen release, a hidden grief, Turn an inner demon into cinema, the script is brief, I been beneath the surface, searching where the system feeds, Prison dreams, shackled minds still sending prison memes. I spit with ease, but it’s torture when the vision speaks, Bordering on borders that they drew to keep us in the streets, Orphaned by authorities, they’re hoarding all the stolen seeds, Growing trees of ignorance, I’m burning what they sowed in me. Chose to be the author of my pain, not the vessel, Every scar etched inside my flesh became my stencil, Instrumental’s just a canvas, I graffiti with the mental, Saw my father’s vacant eyes and built a palace from the rubble. I don’t fumble with excuses, I recite them as confessions, Turn my curses into verses, every rhyme’s a resurrection, Life’s a lesson in disguise, every loss a new direction, So I’m standing on these flaws, making flaws my true protection. I dissect the lies they market, coded language in the jargon, Decorated coffins filled with sons they never pardoned, Target every artist who was starved before they charted, Sell a dream of freedom but the freedom’s just a bargain. Tarnished by my history, but polished with my intellect, Loyal to my essence while the rest just chase the internet, Nothing but a silhouette of fraudulence and filtered text, I bled into these pages ‘til my pages bore the realest threats.
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I pen a thesis when my pen release, a hidden grief, Turn an inner demon into cinema, the script is brief, I been beneath the surface, searching where the system feeds, Prison dreams, shackled minds still sending prison memes. I spit with ease, but it’s torture when the vision speaks, Bordering on borders that they drew to keep us in the streets, Orphaned by authorities, they’re hoarding all the stolen seeds, Growing trees of ignorance, I’m burning what they sowed in me. Chose to be the author of my pain, not the vessel, Every scar etched inside my flesh became my stencil, Instrumental’s just a canvas, I graffiti with the mental, Saw my father’s vacant eyes and built a palace from the rubble. I don’t fumble with excuses, I recite them as confessions, Turn my curses into verses, every rhyme’s a resurrection, Life’s a lesson in disguise, every loss a new direction, So I’m standing on these flaws, making flaws my true protection. I dissect the lies they market, coded language in the jargon, Decorated coffins filled with sons they never pardoned, Target every artist who was starved before they charted, Sell a dream of freedom but the freedom’s just a bargain. Tarnished by my history, but polished with my intellect, Loyal to my essence while the rest just chase the internet, Nothing but a silhouette of fraudulence and filtered text, I bled into these pages ‘til my pages bore the realest threats.
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