“Inheritance”

Defcee
A band for the organs before the casket drop,
and a candid recording of both the rappers shot.
Tactical forces that hope the cameras watch as
masses of corner kids yoked. Won’t let the hammerlock...go.
Ritalin. novocaine. Blizzards and mortar rain
rip through an open range. Village with no remains.
The young addicted to steel and lead. Better to numb a witness than kill em dead, until
their blood is chilled and they don’t judge the distance from stunt and crimson to real and red.
I’m still allergic to death. Eyes get to swellin at hearses and permanent rest.
Pull up at church for the service. No nerve for interments. I fled.
I can’t watch you get tucked away to “Amazing Grace,”
or hear the aches and pain escapin your family’s strainin face.
God forbid someone photographed your body,
And bought a fit when they sold it back to paparazzi.
Friends will turn enemies to dress like men of means. They’ll sell your cell
and wedding ring. This isn’t what God meant by “Everything must…go.”

HOOK: Defcee and CRASHprez
Thought we found the bottom but the lows gettin lower.
Send em home with promoters for the show when it’s over.
Does your death even matter if it can’t be sold?
And how much of your body does your family own
Until it’s dust?
...until it’s dust?
And what’s left for us?
What’s left for us?

CRASHprez
That all depends, but as of late, I’m ashamed of my offering
First place in sweepstakes over claim to my coffin?
I became the auction
As if fame was stalking my face
As if pain was all that I’d chase
Meanwhile, as I mop up the seed from my stomach
I wonder if I’m too diseased for our screaming in public
They dim the light til we discreet
See the shame how they collapse
If you choosy for deceased, let me be the last
I’m tough the way I act
I run the way I’m black
I’ve hung, no, I’ve hanged the way I stay so damn detached
What to make of my silence when it’s violence unto myself?
I’ve come to take the assignment of an undying love for my, vibrant love for my,
Righteous love for myself
My hope is dressed by my walk
How I fund my life with my words, yet I choke whenever I talk?
If their gun never touch none of us, I know the world fit the glove
But no matter what sum they muster up, I never will lick the blood, never