Chris Joseph

Never thought an instant about the sin i've been in/ since an infant I was taught to listen/ part of a mystics vision who grabed a brush n paitned pictures of my mission/ born a Saint some say that I was gifted different/ Out of Scripture off the written path/ got my strength from dippin into popeye's spinich patch/ (image that) I scribbled in a pad how i got the gift of gab from the same crib my momma read and fed me at/ The Knowledge came from older cats at college and then was self applied/ only helped to magnify my light/ and harmful are its rays I sit up under it till the melanoma fries my brain/ I'm head and shoulders over pain in a coma state from sippin vodka from Ukraine/ Now awake free from the chains/ safe away from fear / I dodge the problems that i face throughout the year./
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