Thoughts from the Corner Store

It's around 4 am and a few days after Christmas

All I got on December 25th was  some dirty dishes 

Couldn't sleep well that night , found a jacket and hit the side walk

Its cold as hell outside , lookin at cars like why walk.

Blowin clouds of breath thicker than swisher smoke , looks like white chalk

I see the spur on my right, bright flashy lights, runnin up the bill for power

it says "open 24 hours"

I open the door to see a  half cleaned floor

Faygos 2 for a dollar, I buy four 

I sit on the deep freezer, contemplating with force 

How badly I desire much more

Mentally lay out  business

man Im so sick of bein this

Nigga who got no game , no fame

in the streets  I aint got a name 

at home share the brunt of blame 

Everyday feelin drained

Y'all don't get it

Tryin so very hard to be with it 

Im certain that there's a difference

I only seek good advice to far after

the Arab at the counter eying me , puffin on his tobacco

I keep thinkin "is it anyone I can trust?"

certainly not these niggas, and not the girls that they fucked

Lookin in my pocket , seems like its never enough

Success, serenity , love.

None of  those given to us

None of that given to me

It;s only me as far as I see

The ones I want don't want me , My OGs just say chill out

I can't when im stressed as hell and aint found them folks that ran in my house

Sex, money. drugs, guns . all too familiar to me

Unfortunately for society,  thats what I kinda want it to be

I know im better than these niggas, Im smarter, I can go farther

Then why cant  I get what I want?

should I grind harder..?

think smarter

If I could I would , I promise 

Show me a sign that I got it

Stuck between wanting respect, not wanting to be a felon

Can't take advice from my mama, can't relate to my reverend

Its endless. the cycle

Been months since I touched a bible 

Everybody i see plottin on me , they swear Im a rival 

The door opening iterrupts my thoughts

Pick up a cake , pay the tax, zip my jacket, Im off

Walkin up the cold ass road to my house I keep thinking

My problems drown out my raft, thoughts an anchor, im sinking

I smell some mid grade weed, im thinking " I need it

If a young man in the ghetto declines your help sayin  he doesen't need  it,

He might think you bein nosy, might think you our here creepin..

Thank kind word might mean more to him than you'll ever see it

If he ever tells you he's fine , trust me,  please dont believe it.