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hip hop in midlife’s backdrop


i was born in the gutter i was raised in the gutter
this is a song of savage, a song from drainage
a sewerage, blooper, brother, vagabondage
life was a bummer in the indian border
the schools i grew up learning the cussing for everything
and grass was greener in the school playground
empty the baccy, crush the grass, fill the bong
and sing the song for the bong all along
i see the greens every time i get up for work every day
it was hard: life played its card when i rot in a house of graveyard
cannabis-filled courtyard, junk-laced gates by a pond of booze
it was all blues and i had no clues and i walked with no shoes

the thief sues the robber, the robber the killer, the killer the master
the thief sues the police and peace has left us a long time ago
the priest is preaching for peace the police is preaching for peace
the priest is preaching for peace
everybody is pleading for peace
but peace has left us a long time ago
peace has left us a long, long time ago, a long time ago
life hangs by the highest note on the fife and the strife stays on
man kills man, the dog eats dog, gun for gun, bomb for bomb
it is all eerily calm and i have no balm and life has qualms galore

blood floods, heroin floods, booze floods
grass gads, guns guide, sanity fades
get on the bus, join the exodus and cuss if you must, i’m brainless
never i fit in your society and i need no company, oh yes, so badly
never ever. oh, never say never it does negate with life’s litter, life’s boner
life’s little ironies, life’s little breeze, life’s little ease, life’s all sleaze

this is hip hop, in midlife’s backdrop
someone’s dead on the rooftop the commons are a workshop
of a barbaric life i need no civilisation so fancy
of disgraced everything i need no courtesy, spare me
spare me, but save your society, save your family
i’m all out against everything, my hip hop will not save the king
like scorpions i’d sting, not once, and never i would even blink
the street dogs in green with guns are barking they are barking
the robbers are looting wearing the clothing of a king
the master’s robes are stained and his brain is down the drain
the school kids are out in the street the teachers are out
it’s all about the end, the end is the new beginning
all i need is a change, a new creed not sullied
a range of empty freshly grange for all things anew
a coup sans ado like in a perfectly précised haiku







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