Just Another Verse

Son of preacher Momma never graduated To go to high school My father demonstrated Fist fights that agitated Regulated Through subversive measures Hotep Bumping an old tune By Curtis Weathers Took steps to walk the righteous Showed a gift of gab Too young, tall, and awkward With a nervous laugh A wicked jab, And a worse hook But confidence lacking Withdrew internally To embrace his passion Homework and church services Wrote rhymes Beneath the skyline To escape from Domestic turbulence Alt right Destined to emerge Beneath the curb, Suburbs, slurs Forbidden words In the ghetto Maintain and stay mellow The future's what you make Learn from what The past is telling you And everything else Is el-e-ment-tal It could always be worse Just another verse If I could turn back time Sit back and rewrite my life I wouldn't It all worked together for good in How the book put it In the good book Could it Make it just a little easy I try hard Even acknowledge When it's my fault Just a little scribble In the earth's artwork Just another line on the plain My fault For the turbulence That I caused We all lost No nervousness No encore No more nourishment Last course No desert No more furnishings My iPhone got no bars The bars got no stars No boss durb in this Oh And no words for this Feeling I though we were supposed To be building We been conditioned With Free-on So we chillin' Let's get free Cause it could always be worse The lies we rehearse Just another verse