The Habit

The Habit

There ain’t no black man on these streets doing the heroin

And that shit ain’t by mistake

There ain’t no comparison.

Brought us to this opiate drug overtake

It’s a white man’s dis~ease brought us to this harrowing

White privilege greed in health care again

If what goes around comes around

The fickle finger of fate pointed

the white boy anointed

By years of fate enslaved in white hate traded black men in the ground

Before you pick up that needle and play with that Hep C

Take a good look in the mirror, look around

Shattered faces of humans racing to consume opiates in dark places

Call them ruins, or “our town”

This isn’t for the faint hearted clown

hands down this shit is serious

Sharing your kit gives a good dose of that shit

getting high may see

That last nail in the coffin you fear

Will the yin yang score finally be settled right here

Any that dope laced with fentanyl give you a free ride,

not intentional

Still breathing ...inconsequential

Still a habit shit got personal

you’ll be back...or the hearse will

opiate reception’s popping

Just like skin popping, blowing veins gone, heart sepsis. stopping

Dead man walking rotting corpse of a white washed up infestation

No po po investigation

Town elation of the sidewalk crustaceans extrications by self elimination is ...

celebration

No one cries but mothers of the dead falling on deaf ears

No celebration here ...

No

But big pharma grows and stocks rose til they compose

Another dose, stronger than those already on the market

They bring to the carpet

Add these to the opiate agony and methodology keeping addiction glued to the white man

And Big Pharma permanent-ly

Implanting antagonist seeds for more cash cows and more stores to bank on what sells to keep their

Customers shopping in pharma hell

For that next highlight in their high life

it is so pro-life-ick to some terrific to others

Terrifying by all measures if you’re gambling. It’s just a crap shoot

Because you never know if today is gonna be the day your number comes up

If you run dead outta luck or you’re the dead man walking the wrong way on a one way

Life ain’t your run way, and this ain’t some fun way to check out at the Speedway

Gorked out needle in, sweating skin, eyes back, heart attack and white

sooooo very white the night pales in comparison

We knew you would never be alive again

Go ask Alice if you’re going to survive again

Or, if you’re only to be “A Thought” in a sea of many white men on the dope again

Swimming against the tide of hope dying to get shored in

To sobriety or something like it

NA or an AA is Highly recommended if success is your is your agenda my friend

If you’re only a pretender, people prepare an obit

Make sure affairs are legit

Dude you really need to quit

AMEN white boy see ya on the flip

We’re going to hell for all of it

For these are the diaries, the scripts

Of a Former addict

...of life.

Although I survived many like me died.

These are the tales from their

Crypts

Off the backs of the scripts that was the start that unzipped

The ugliness that ripped through the white race before it became a blip

On the face of country that cares only for money no guilt trip here

The white man disappears mid class ghost towns ghetto burn down

Loss of a land over addiction

Hands down the worst habit we ever found this shit is a nightmare

Do we ask Alice or follow the Rabbit?

Cause this is the white man’s habit.