I Make ‘Em Look Bad

I make ‘em look bad

Oh yes I do

The things I write

And words I speak

Get their palms sweaty

Knuckles weak

Because I’m not dissuaded by discomfort

I enjoy making you speechless

And to use popular slang, butthurt

But I hurt your mind more

Because I know we can all do and be more

Cranking squeaky gears is a chore

But once the engine goes, listen to it roar

Put me to the fire, and I’ll burn brighter

Every eye will see the pyre

And realize the potential in all of us

To be higher

I know I’m politically incorrect

I know young black men

aren’t supposed to be conservative

But hey, that’s the die life rolled

And I played my cards well

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