Nickel plated cannons, and

ammunitions, da tools of

an assassin, who moves

through da night smoothly

while burying bodies in caskets

I’m fasting a part of da trait

no need for solids or nutrients

I just ate, a full plate of

meditation that medicates

the soul of a thousand years old a

dynasty like powder n gold truly old

by ours truly United States agents

caging our souls n minds

with propaganda n currency’s

to keep us divided as a nation

is da way to beat subjugation

case in hand listen to the story

of this Little man by the name of George

he came here to find recourse

worked a million hours to da bone

went home to find a letter

from area code 20004 “Washington”

with nowhere to go nowhere

to run he stuck it out till

the day they came one by one

he noticed his neighbors gone

knowing one of these days

his would come

but he figured he’d work til

a million to juan so when

that date arrived he would

return to his home of

desolation and gunz

the sound of knocking

at his door woke him up at

4:30 AM in the morning he began

to tremble and go numb

not understanding he approached

his door before it broke open

with a boom!

Tear gas engulfed his little home

he sat on da floor aghast

with tear gas in his throat

in a ball of confusion he knew

it was no illusion they had come

for him asked if he was a top ten

F.B.I. fugitive

given da facts he was here

illegally but lord knows he

working hard to pay taxes eagerly

only to be hunted and accused

of breaking da law confused him

George never recover from

his lost now he sits behind

these walls wondering about

it all n how all he wanted

was to be in his little home