Alive In A Grave
When the casket walls start to cave in kicking my @$$, I start singing out loud bout taking it all back. Heyah! Way Heyah! And it sounds like that. Fighting terrorism goes way back. Since 1492 to be exact. And my ancestors don’t speak English. In the spirit of Crazy Horse maybe this Native got a death wish. So French kiss the raised fist. I did this for y’all indigenous. Now I’m behind enemy lines. Dancing with wolves to dancing with the devil, no homo. Spit a poem and it comes out as flow though. Urban Native. My family’s most hated. It’s been a long hard road though so I can take it. Long hair don’t even care. Keep a thousand yard stare with the eyes in the back. Up in here it’s like that. A little love would be nice though. Y’all don’t even know. Everyday it gets more cold. Heart done froze. It’s more like a Blackhole. I would sell my soul just to see my baby. That kinda pain made daddy a little crazy. Crazy in a sacred way. Who I am today. Editor N Chief. AKA Mylzavelli. Feeling like I aint a killer but don’t try me. Urban Heyoka 5150. With smoke signals from a mass grave. Saying we are still alive. But I’m not gonna cry if they don’t hear. The heathens advocate had it up to here. All I need is one mic. But all I got is one knife. (Smiles) Naw, I’m just playing…Just saying. Heyah! Way Heyah! HAHAHA!