You know sometimes life is a trip It can make you do mysterious thangs. And sometimes life is a bitch How do you deal with the pain? Niggas rather smile in my face Stick a knife in my mothafuckin' back Than to see my family doin' well And my pockets steady gettin' fat. Since the age of 14 you know I been representin' my neighborhood. G'd up every goddamned day Puttin' it down foe the city of inglewood. And I ain't asked nobody for shit Ain't nobody had to front me no sack Everything I got I did it by myself And that's a mothafuckin' fact. But why when I'm doin my own thang And why when I'm on my own grind Niggas wanna turn they back And act like squeak done switched sides. And even though I got niggas that I love And niggas that I know is real. I still got them niggas that I wanna Take my pistol and stick it to they fuckin' grill. But have you ever been down wit the homies Because you thought the homies was true? Or have you ever been down wit the homies And found out the homies ain't down with you? Huh, player haters suck my dick!!
I have to live with myself and so I want to be fit for myself to know, I want to be able as days go by, To look at myself straight in the eye. I don't want to stand with the setting sun And hate myself for the things I've done.
I don't want to hide on a closet shelf A lot of secrets about myself, And fool myself as I come and go Into thinking that nobody else will know What kind of man I really am; I don't want to dress myself in sham.
I want to go with my head erect, I want to deserve all men's respect And in this struggle for fame and pelf I want to be able to like myself. I don't want to look at myself and know That I am a bluster and empty show.
I cannot hide myself from me; I can see what others can never see; I know what others can never know, I cannot fool myself, and so
Whatever happens, I want to be Self-respecting and conscience free.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air, Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same, I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance, Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten, I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, Nature without check with original energy.
Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes, I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it, The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.
The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless, It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, I am mad for it to be in contact with me.
The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind, A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms, The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag, The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides, The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.
Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you reckon'd the earth much? Have you practis'd so long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poetry?
Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poetry, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,) You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.