Amethyst Rocks (Published Poem Version)

What I got, come and get some Get on up, hustler of culture I stand on the corner of the block slangin' Amethyst Rocks Drinkin' 40's of mother earth's private nectar stock dodgin' cops Cause 5-0 be the 666 And I need a fix of that purple rain The type of shit that drives membranes insane Oh yeah I'm in the fast lane snorting candy yams That free my body and soul and send me like shazzam Never question who I am God knows, and I know God personally In fact he lets me call him “me” I be one with rain and stars and things With dancing feet and watermelon rings I brings the sunshine and the moon And the wind blows my tune, meanwhile I spoon powdered drumbeats into plastic bags Selling kilos of kintae skag Taking drags off of collards and cornbread Freebasing through saxophones and flutes like mad The high notes make me space-float I be exhaling in rings that circle Saturn Leaving stains in my veins in astrological patterns. Yea I'm serious "B" Doe gone niggas plotted shit lovely But the feds is also plotting me They're trying to imprison my astrology Put our stars behind bars Our stars and stripes Using blood splattered banners as nationalist kites But I control the wind, that's why they call it the hawk I am Horus, son of Isis, son of Osiris Worshiped as Jesus resurrected Like Lazarus But you can call me lazzy, lazy Yea I'm lazy cause I'd rather sit and build Than work and plow a field Worshiping a daily yield of cash green crops Your evolution stopped the evolution of your technology A society of automatic tellers and money machines Nigga what, my culture is lima beans and tambourines Dreams, manifest dreams real, not consistent with rationale I dance for no reason, for reason you can’t dance Call me an activist of intellectualized circumstance You can’t learn my steps until you unlearn your thoughts Spirit, soul can't be store-bought, fuck thought Leads to naught, simply leads to you trying to figure me out Your intellect’s disfiguring your soul Your being’s not whole, check your flagpole Stars and stripes, your astrology’s Imprisoned by your concept of white, of self What’s your plan for spiritual health? Calling reality unreal Your line of thought is tangled The Star Spangled got your soul mangled, your being’s angled Forbidding you to be real and feel, you can’t find truth With an axe or a drill in a white house on a hill or In factories or plants made of steel. Stealing us was the smartest thing you ever did, Too bad you don’t teach the Truth to your kids, My influence on user reflection you See when you look in your minstrel mirror and talk about Your culture, your existence is that of a schizophrenic Vulture who thinks he has enough life in him to prey on the dead Not knowing that the dead ain’t dead, that he ain’t got enough Spirituality to know how to pray. Yeah, there’s no repentance You’re bound to live in infinite consecutive executive life sentence So while you’re busy serving time I’ll be in sync with the Moon while you run from the sun Life of the womb, reflected by guns Worship of moons, I am the sun And I am Public Enemy number One One One One, One One One That’s seven and I’ll be out on the block Hustling culture slinging amethyst rocks