To be from this land
To be a part of what their not
Speak their tongs you do
Speak to their mind you wont, you don’t
Full of symbolisms they prefer
Full of bullshit they prefer,
True emptiness in what is ever left
In the body, in the should in the mind
Hunger and starvation for bling
Chasing and foaming for Cash
No where to go but to the past
Noting genuine here
Nothing lasts