waking up thinking somebody's hands were on me... it's just the drugs and another Sunday morning... The corners are empty and quite moody... the vice lords and disciples are truce'n... the preachers are moving the bible are in their hands the sweat are on their brows it's time for proving... to the back row hooligans... appropriately dressed in white tees, jeans, and scuffed chucks and forces... I've been there before... the grudge matches with lonely poets who questioned my soul... back against the walls teasing the tightropes... the devil's greatest creation isnt the sci-fi channels... or some silly UFO's the greatest deception is fearing what you don't know... open your eyes and shut your mouth you might learn more... I dont know where you've been but you couldn't walk my roads... not with your soft heart and your holy ghost... the opposition will eat...you...whole... everything you see in the sky isn't truth and golds.... It's a shame when two "n.iggas" cant get along... on a religious tip... came together as one chained and whipped... now we'll kill each other over chains and whips... we'll sell our religion through some five page pamphlet at gas stations... we'll sell our religion on a bow tie and fruit basket.... anything to please god and fill them pockets... anything to please god and avoid hell's pits... anything will do now days... Everything besides the first stanza was keystyle. Honest feedback please.