Sitting pretty looking fine heart needs a makeover but she look fly,
Contact lenses match her blind she lost her pearls and don’t know why.
Was it her needs or was it greed,That made her switch from pearls to platinum, large carats and temporary things?
Did her family… disown her or maybe her daddy didn’t love her? Or was it case of mistaken identity, from being young and dumb by copying carbon copy enemies.
Hating what was within tangled in hating fake friends,
Laughing at her style telling her not to wear those pearls again.Heard she was too thin so she pushed to get her weight up, told that her features would stand out if she just added a little makeup.
A jean wearing freshman watching seniors leave no mystery,Purchased mini skirts and booty shorts showing more leg for popularity but eventually no inner victory.
Smartest in her class but couldn’t handle the pressure, of everyone around failing semesters but compared to her standards they still looked better. Ran from herself, sold her wisdom and took the bus to the devils location,
Ran from herself, sold her wisdom and took the bus to the devils location, trying to find a new look but lost inner strength and dedication. Looking for validation in all the wrong places,
Mama asked baby where your pearls she said I must have dropped them at the bus station.Went back and found a man who told her where to look,
When they entered his apartment she found lust with a cookie crook.He gave her the world in exchange for her soul and instead of finding her pearls she found the meaning of alone. Did she ever hear she was beautiful or did the wrong one whisper sweet nothings?
How candid she thought it was being applauded for twerking but when she couldn’t find her pearls no longer was her nakedness funny. Starting out insecure with no understanding of deceptive thoughts, year after year trading her womanly pearls for what she really didn’t want.Carrying past burdens of mama not really being there, wishing she could take all the merchandise back to find those pearls she used to wear.Asking should she remove the perm and go natural because that wasn’t really her or maybe a weave with an invisible part since herself was such a blur. Adopting another womans traits because she seemed so well put together,So she asked about HER pearls and she replied they didn’t match the weather. So she rummaged through life trying to collect one pearl at a time, but by the time she made a necklace low self-esteem, doubt and carelessness made her feed her pearls to swine. She aged and became grey but the comparisons never stopped, now she’s partying with lost girls whose pearls have seemed to drop. Still lost, confused and vain to share one little secret,
That if a woman recognizes and finds her pearls she better cherish pure vintage and fight with Gods light to keep them.
Your laws ignore our deepest needs,
Your words are empty air.
You’ve stripped away our heritage,
You’ve outlawed simple prayer.
Now gunshots fill our classrooms,
And precious children die.
You seek for answers everywhere,
And ask the question “Why?”
You regulate restrictive laws,
Through legislative creed.
And yet you fail to understand,
That God is what we need!
“Men and women are three-part beings. We all consist of body, mind, and spirit. When we refuse to acknowledge a third part of our make-up, we create a void that allows evil, prejudice, and hatred to rush in and wreak havoc. Spiritual presences were present within our educational systems for most of our nation’s history. Many of our major colleges began as theological seminaries. This is a historical fact.
What has happened to us as a nation? We have refused to honor God, and in so doing, we open the doors to hatred and violence. And when something as terrible as Columbine’s tragedy occurs — politicians immediately look for a scapegoat such as the NRA. They immediately seek to pass more restrictive laws that contribute to erode away our personal and private liberties. We do not need more restrictive laws.
Maybe it’s how I came up I can’t help but to see
cause my daddy did it off the muscle
love for the crabs but I couldn’t do the mussel
oh you want this good life, well my son you gotta tussle is what he telling me
Every time I write now I can hear him telling me
but day and night living at the bottom of my problems
will make a brother want to reach out to his father
but that time has passed when you became a father
ask lil homey where his daddy at, that dude didn’t even bother
painting false pictures of full pitchers
two shots of this liquor will get you addicted to knowing that you gon’ win
you just gotta hustle for a few more min
I was gon’ get right back, give me a few more min
he walked out the door and he ain’t seen him since
when’s the last time you heard him spit like this
invisible bars with locks as thick as bricks
I guess I’m lost in this world.
Bolt cutter gut checks this life I cashed is suspect
deemed a convict with each bong hit
a long whiff make him long quick for a down chick
with candles lit, superficial reasons, no love in the mirror
just breathing, my words cold as the change in the season.
Seen a kid at the park, his chopper caught up in the trees
and maybe cause he heavyset he reminded me of me,
no one trying to help the homey,
I lived his story,
so I reached out to him and I got up in those trees.
This anecdote a reflection of how I’m feeling
of how I’m living reaching for the heavens
and help is what is missing.
If I can just touch it maybe I’ll fly like his engine
but I’m caught up in my own branches stuck between the leaves.
Every time I open up they taking what I’m giving,
I can’t seem to give enough, trying to fill my shelves up,
its another season and I gotta get my dubs up.