Why do we get sick, suffer and die before we open our eyes?
Small size, barely alive
Run between our mother thighs, bloody, hungry, we cry
Get silenced by lullabies, dream of butterflies
The god palms cover the skies, diseases
Palm readers, good fortune, to bad luck speakers
Some try to heal
To fake healers, hit ‘em with a bill
Something further nil and pray to a god with strong will
But one day, God resist the earth like [?] but we born still
[?] tribe talk to the sky, with strangers walking by
Tiffany, we pray the Lord heal her insides
Fill her with enzymes
Plenty men tried but sin lies in the heart
My pen dines on the art
My sister didn’t make it
Heroin took her to places where she seen spaceships
But in reality, she was not over her plate
Her face in the grits and the bacon
She stops, she shaking, then she aching
Nauseated, her left leg and her right leg, the poison ate it