Reincarnated Traffic King

Title: Reincarnated Traffic King © 2007
By: Born Divine (Baba Juju) aka Young Knockas
Edited by: Goddess Love - Sha’KMT Divine

Not every fool is wise enough to make a come back.

I can say that because I’m actual fact of a come back.

I’m unarmed but these arms once bore arms that broke lives apart -

Sold dope to fiends, I aided the murder of kings and queens,

Supported coke and crack addiction and slayed dreams of kings and queens-

Made crack babies of kings and queens.

Now picture me trying to shake night visions, life in prison-

But somehow I still feel locked up-

Internally enraged - self enslaved-

In a box by myself trying to make an end.

Pistol clutched, the aroma of nag champa - A candle lit;

I once was with a Queen that feels that I was full of shit about

multiple relationships that smothered the street monster inside.

I was tired –

Flipping from heckle to jeckle, South kacka-lackie country to

Miami deco to ghetto-

After an abusive relationship,

I wonder if we now understand the bigger picture.

You see gansta, either way it will get cha-

Don’t take for joke that your actions outside of home

Won’t eventually enter your home…

Ah murderah outside is a murderah within,

It flows in the character of blood,

And defies the moral foundation that once

Held folks together; It gets deep-

I have yet to fully appreciate a rapper or

So-called poet trying to narrate these streets and the making of the beast,

That eventually becomes you - and the bullshit you would do…

For the sake of cash and a gangsta status quo-

“out for that cheddar” – “bout that loot” – “get that doe”

I did it all,

a biblical Saul to Paul

Actual fact to the majority of all ya’ll

With the discipline to know and apply the mathematical difference-

The Feds(Federals) gave Dogg (Dee) a double life sentence

And that’s the mathematical difference -

Because you can’t live life twice,

But it intimidates the right to fight-

Because if they do minimize it to just life-

It still would be life…right.

I laugh at videos, rappers with thug protocols

Because they know-like I know, that a stupid nig with a trig can end it all-

A federal case can crush it all-

In one pop or sting operation cop; a snitch word is dropped…

And the body drops in irregular position-

A disposition to a quicken or cell blocks in prisons.

Look-

Just call me the nig that gave up-

Or the chump who had enough-

I’ll play your bluff – until I’ve had enough.

I’m still short tempered – a pistol grip away from prison

But spite my condition; I see more life in living so I became The Fisherman-

Though my scales weigh a bit different than what they used to…

I had to adapt to a livin that my family wasn’t use to…

So now I evaluate the cost-

The hommies lost-

The weight of a crime boss and the anxiety of an appeal.

I can recall every deal, like its real-

Every shoot out I can still feel like its real-

So now I struggle to master the feel,

Truthfully, let it be known as an addition

It’s hard to admit when it’s the streets that you missin,

Set backs to irregular conditions,

Like long nights-

Out of state awakes-

And the chances you negate, the lives you destroy or elevate,

The smiles and camaraderie are not all fake but,

Today I awake with hommies doing life behind bars and guarded gates.

Welcome to my experience – I pray that you are just passing through,

You are a witness to:

“The Reincarnated Fate of a Traffic King”

Put Life First (PLF),

Born Divine