Your Poetry Dot Com - slaves to the rhymes

Don’t nobody tell my what to do
that’s what I thought
As I
Walked into finish line to buy the newest pair of Tim’s
As I
Had my boys hook me up with a hot pair of rims
Don’t nobody tell me what to do
That's what I use to tell myself
As I’d
Pop in another rap CD
And realize
I’m doing exactly what they tell me
Apparently
Your not cool unless
your driving in a car you can barely afford
Not cool unless
You were lacing a pair of hundred dollar shoes on your feet
Because we’ve all heard that beat
That go along with the same lyrics
We all here it
And something about the rhymes
Makes it sink into our spirit
You see the game hasn’t changed
Still the same game
Just with different names
Still the same game
Leaving instructions in our brain
Telling us
screw the po-lice
And then I watch the crime increase
Like we all have one brain
One mind
With these lyrics hitting us faster then one mind at a time
Telling us kill that sucka
And I watch my brothers decrease
But I guess that’s fine
Cuz with all the baby mama drama
They’ll be another lil brother on the street in no time
See we don’t realize we’ve become slaves to the commercial hip hop industry
Crossing that line between
Entertainment of music
And living the reality
Maybe, we lack the ability
To make up our own minds
So I’m asking you take this time to turn your duals down
And listen to the sounds
Cuz we can turn this thing around
One mind
At a time.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ worldsenigma