Sounds

Knock onto my ego
let the rain pour in my glass
for emptiness sorrows may drink
a cup  away

I been here before
million decades decay
the harden stone of my heart
cracks deepen by grief
I am sadden then a homeless penniless
fool or a garden tool that's referred as a hoe
knock
knock on my doors

People

people are gonna be people rather the black white or Filipino
people gone be people rather holding a gun or owners of a convenience store
I grew in different areas places you wouldn't want names running in groups choirs & gangbangs hearing hard shots passing in a distant blue
seeing a 9 to 5 for pennies on food stamps revenue
I heard a bruh got snitch on 5th Ave life in the D'block
brothers got the snitch some snitches standing rite by crickete cops...
but yall aint picturing it tho
cause im a black man im a label in a group see outsiders see the history
watching slaves movies really?Roots! but I aint triping shoot... do you
cause people gone be people black white or Filipino.......word...