Babylon Snatch My Chalice
Just the other day
The vultures pounced on him
They cornered and beat him
He begged for mercy
But the vultures were thirsty
For blood and money
Just because they found
Four joints in his pocket
Dear ghetto
Why do we get malice
Whenever we cry for justice?
Does a man deserve injustice
For smoking herb in a chalice?
Copyright ©
Bud Cee | Year Posted 2018
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