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.