Song of the week: Blue Scholars: " Self Portrait"

Shorty feels the pressure on his shoulders as he's liftin it
Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
Options at the bottom of the ladder got him desperate
But all he ever wanted was a weapon to protect him with
Riding a 36 through the veins of the beacon
The water is the heart, its rainin when its beatin
In the city that I sleep in I'm dreamin while I'm awake
The miserable escape but theyre too high to ponder faith
But who am I, to use their plight to illustrate a rhyme
With everything around me that I've never had to live
But I observe the inner qualities to serve the people properly
Tell them that their freedom isn't found in private property
Prostitutes are more than just the folks who sell their bodies
See this shit applies to those whos souls are a commodity
I can hear the colony callin me back to be
The bullet in the belly while they lock, load, and squeeze

Rebel with a pen lettin off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
They made a mockery out of the possibility
But under constant revision is the poem that I be