(Rap #7)

By Wil C. Fry, May 12, 2000, 21:22:21

Copyright © 2000 by Wil C. Fry. All rights reserved.

Weakness is willing and weariness wanes
Strength soaks me and gone are the pains
Enter a new phase, feel the sights being raised
And now Iím climbing over the walls of the maze

I keep looking back, Iím still keeping track,
and this summerís night is the blackest black.
I took all the flak, I got stabbed in the back,
but now Iím using the oldest trick on the rack.
On no one else can I fully depend, from here to the end,
not even your closest friend,
So I look to myself and do what I know I can — I can stand like a man.
I am my own biggest fan, not an also-ran,
and I finally got my head out of the sand
So, put down your book, take a look and smell what Iím about to cook
I am not a crook, I didnít commit a crime
Still, I found myself doing the time,
caught silent and clean-handed like a mime
Unable to read, write or rhyme
But thatís fine, yeah, thatís okay.
Today is the start of a brand new day
Hear what I say, Ďcause Iím not going away
I wonít vanish weakly into the night
Without a fight, because I know Iím right,
and now Iím wound up real tight
Feeling better, like silk and leather, dancing in the heather
Bound with rawhide, I will turn this tide.
I have too much pride to take this long lonely ride
Without telling my side
Unlike before, when I would run and hide,
weep and cry, or just try to get high
Just try to get high, try to avoid all the pain, hiding from the rain
Now, itís not the same
Things have changed
Iím stronger, make my life longer, Iím smarter
Iíll handle the s**t when life gets harder and Iím tired of trying to barter
And compromise, telling lies, standing back,
afraid of the attack, the wall to my back
My life has been both white and black,
but now Iím getting back all the things that I lacked
Iím catching up instead of loosing track
go ahead and smoke your crack
But you wonít find me there, pulling out my hair,
gasping for the next breath of precious air
A lost, lonely and vacant stare
Iíll get my fair share, my rightful due
And to do it, I might have to walk right over you
But Iíll get over it, Ďcause Iím not through
Just watch me, boy, and put down your toys
See, Iím out to find some real joy —
and Iíll find out what makes this little world tick,
whether itís the cash, the trash, or having a big d**k
Just stand back, and watch and learn, watch as all my old stories burn
Take your hand off the page and watch it turn.
And your stomach might began to churn
But Iím on top of it now. Iím watching, Iím seizing the day,
Iím not sliding down
Gone is my familiar frown, as the goal is found,
and, while others might slip and drown
Iím reaching for higher ground, hearing the stronger sound,
and getting the better of this town
What goes around will eventually come around,
and now itís coming around. Itís all coming down
Coming unbound in my grasp — I wonít finish last,
and I might just have to pass
On that next piece of ass
If doing so
Takes me

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