i can never pretend that this cloak called woman is heavy to dawn,
this depth is enough for a nigga to fall
but i speak of men and not boys,
that treat their manhood as expression n not toys.
boys ran from stimulation of the mind,
in the arms of nameless strangers, untagged with any character u will find
aroused, in shallow waters of cheap thrills
no, no, no i talk of men who know the drill.
boys, deny a womans shining by day, crave n praise my shadow at night
n just because i laid with open legs n gave u what a moment yearn doesnt make me wrong or right
n yr half empty promises u whispered to my open heart, makes u wrong at this time
im talkin about a man who is conjoured by the physical that the world is shown
who can fearlessly drown inside of my world that is unknown
i am too emotional, that mayb you could say is prown,
to this dance of words, the crazy thoughts
im not emotional enough most times coz my childhood was bruised
man at my choice could use my words as his voice
a man who doesnt expect me to make him feel like 1, but knows he is
stick to his word, but know the damage of a promise.
but we all know this propaganda is for those blessed n kissed by what i had missed with that train last week...
No comments:
Post a Comment