The Commoner

I'm a common Nomad,

With problems? No Man I keep this Flow Fat,

Like a forklift I Hold Stacks, push my weight til Bones Collapse,

Or I can't Stand and I'm Alone Prone and Cracked,

See I may not talk much but I Expose my Ghosts in Raps,

Put em on paper so I can Roast Poke and Scratch,

Within Sight this Gifted Mind Loads and BAM,

Hands Explode but my Soul's Intact,

The struggles I face are givin me Broken Abs,

Because I treat em like Jokes and Laugh

Average Joes and Cats that leave and bring Damage to Homes and Pads,

All I see are these Clones it's Sad,

Bringing in ammo with a 9 to 5 Uknown Rats ready to Unload and Act,

All the world's a stage so we all gotta Cope and Plan,

Mold this Land to whatever the Lord Demands,

But I'm no prophet who Knows The Man,

And can Denote some Facts about the heaven that Chose this Path,

I'm only tryin to survive til I'm Grown and Dragged,

To my Hole and Trapped....