Still Good In Me by KESAUĆ MUSHEER HILL
My father beat my mother into induced
labor, having fistfights with grown men
always trying to save her.
Hopes of being a kid again was somethin
to savor; never knew I'd see the Pen but
a few years later.
A child made man in a manmade trail then
called by the world a lyfe taker. Youth
prison knife taker.
Surrounded by concrete like the monkey god,
man. Plus lyfe began to look odd and futile,
lords and tribal wars was a world of caos
at its core. A little nigga gang bangin at
the door and scrappin niggas up as a chore.
At first step hunted, trained by 43 hundred
preying on the faces like look hunted.
My habitat like Iron Woods, body tatted
a pup running with wolves, but I was searchin
for a part of me still good.
Graffiti on the wall say NO WARNING SHOTS
and the will to survive now is all I got, not
to mention, I've been prayin alot.
The rage got my emotions in a knot, got a
burner in the place of a glock, like a best
friend shot. On a prison yard smokin Pot
listening to Pac.
Hard lessons at knife point I'm forced to
learn, war mongers doing SHU terms, while
politicians treat the subject like a germ.
Meanwhile, breath is my only concern warrin
with kind that killed Pern.
This must be a glimpse of how hell be, knowin
only GOD can help me, the devils tryin to
melt me but that's not lyfe I was dealt see,
I knew that there was still GOOD in me to
see the MAN I could be, should be, would be.
Thats when the reality of it all took me.
They wanted me repentive thats why they
call it the PENITENTIARY and its been that
way for centuries, while the homies aint
been keepin it Gee and the madness was
makin me lonely.
Tired of the situation owning me, I needed
FREEDOM like a twisted soul down on its
knees, the reality of Mothers please Or how
a mother grieves for all of the things that
Her gang bangin little boy out
there running the streets,
she gots the whole church praying
But there was a rage in me, the need for
caging me, wish it was strange to me,
thats the GOOD there with me.
I knew I could be repentive but I had
Blood spilt enemies who hated the thought
of forgiving me, with a thirst for a rep
dreams of killing me.
Still the efficaciousness of prayer was
A little boy living lyfe a grown man
being guided by a strong hand, UNDERSTAND?
While raised by the best of societies rejects
honor now a reflex to see how deep my
thoughts get, like knowing how cold the
dark gets but I hadn't touched my heart yet.
If success is standing on my own TWO I
got that, after falling short, man, I'm right
back, a tortured soul that wouldn't crack.
I killed for it, bled for it and TEARED
for it, man, I've served 26 years for it.
But I haven't been brought this far to
blow it; There's something in me, man, I
I see it now despite the HOOD in me, I'm
my Mothers child so there's GOOD in me,
a service to GOD and Family with dignity
as it should be.
Like Lost Angels and them Palm trees
I'll lift my head and be FREE.