I've been in the poem of many a poet, And I reside in the art of many a artist. Some of your smartest have tried to articulate. My whole part in this,But they're fruitless in their harvest.I'm the one that they follow,I am the one that they march with. Through the back alleys,And the black markets,The Oval Offices,Crackhouses and apartments.Through the mazes of the queens,The pages of the sages,And the Chambers of The Kings,Through the veins-es of the fiends,I am the American dream,The rape of Africa,The undying machine,The overpriced medicine,The murderous regime,The tough guy's front,And the one behind the scenes.I am the blood of this city,It's gas, water, and electricity,I'm it's gym, and it's math, and it's history,The gunshots in the class.I am the safe haven for the rebel runaway and the resistor. The trusted misleader,The number one defender, I don't know much bout where I'm from but I know I strike fear everywhere I come,Government want me dead so I wear my gun. I feel no pain, and I shed no tear, If I'm in your dreams then your end is near.
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