True lifes poem
True life as juvenile, a roam a grow no, have dream no heart, no have soul, no more reason fi bad now, it too late. born fi dweet the pain feel now a time fi dweet no fi sleep the grind no feel the time a leap, no try fi real. A king a street, no bring no heat,we wah fi teach, the kids fi creep, a mill a week east we been asleep. so far fi reach .... Leave mi lying on the floor wounded. now the kid a reach so far fi reap the fruits so sweet. no time fi hitch no time the timer reach . points equip, nights a drip 4 corn crypts.