The beef is back on

So I guess the beef is back on

So I guess the beef is back on, just toss it in the wok – flame
Blazes and amazes, but they never on the block – game
Is always played pettily with no rules, it’s no shock – shame
Upon the industry that can’t tell the times, a broken clock – name
Me one rapper that’s talkin honestly bout the real story,
Bout the horror flick called Fascism, full of blood and gory,
Pullin out the straps on innocent mothers, aimin Gunz like Cory,
Then braggin on the Gram about the “war” and all its glory;
“Make America Great Again” chant of the next Trumpster hire,
Little knowin the guy’s close to combustion like a dumpster fire,
Willing to spit the false gospel of an even falser Messiah,
Needle’s already in the red, but he’s ready to take it higher;
Briar patches fillin up scary white rabbits,
While Nanaw done lost her healthcare and “She’s Gotta Have It”;
Word to Spike Lee, they might dislike me,
Even try to fight me, but they will never slight me,
Slight of hand with the reality, David Copperfield
Droppin bombs on illusion, with a kiloton whopper yield;
In the wreckage I hope to find us a kernel of truth,
To stop the wildfire of doublespeak from burnin the youth.
Speakin of kids, I heard about 1500 missin,
Torn from mothers and others, cryin and kissin,
Screw hearin about a couple-o wealthy egos dissin,
Please open your third eye and inner ear and just listen;
What have we become when we become so indifferent to pain,
I wish we cared more about our kids, indifferent to fame,
Betsy Ross in heaven cryin tears of Purple Rain,
The circle of stars she made is nothing but a circle of shame.
America, time to live up to your promise of hope,
Instead of Blue oppression, Red blood, and White lines of coke,
Nationalistic fires and destruction you continue to stoke,
So when God brings the rod of correction we’ll get more than a poke.

(Dwayne Polk)

This entry was posted in Poetry.

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