LOST TO THE STREETS
YOU THINK YOU KNOW A PERSON
AND FOR WHAT REASON
THEY SAY I'M THIS
THEY SAY I'M THAT
TIL THE REPITICIOUS SOUND
LEAVES TEN RUNNING
AND ONE FLAT ON THEIR BACK
NO NOT ME IS WHAT THEY REPLY
UNTIL THEIR IN FRONT OF THE JUDGE
WITH TEARS IN THEIR EYES
NOW THE ONE THAT HOLDS YOUR FATE
STARTS THE INQUISITION
YOU SAY YOUR NOT A SNITCH
YOU SAY YOU WON'T TELL
TIL THE FEDS ENTER THE ROOM
THEN TO YOUR KNEES YOU FELL
SAYING OH WHAT THE HELL
I MIGHT AS WELL!
JESUS R CALDERON
THE INSANE POET
A PERSONAL PROPHET OF GOD
