Besedila:
Poet In Process Why

Tell me mother Why did you cry? Why did you keep the rage inside? Was the answer underneath? The misery and pain that we feel for a child, for a man

year old black kid will go and rob a liquor store And get shot in the process He ate up a nine bullet and now he's put to rest Why do I call myself

maze, my bang'll tip with any rapper These days, spittin venom when my wordplay sprays And claimin half this cash regardless, dome my target From the heart spittin my flow while slow niggaz process

there's nothing to be afraid of What you just did was fall to the depths of existence The place the mind keeps you away from by it's own process of building

said he didnt understand the process of the imagination but he felt he was at its mercy Which exploits my point perfectly and certainly reinforces the reason why

fifteen year old black kid will go and rob a liquor store And get shot in the process He ate up a nine bullet and now he's put to rest Why do I call