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MURS • “18 w/a Bullet” • 2002

See my life is like a song, I just don’t know the words,
So as I try to hum along people say that I’m disturbed.
Stare and call me a loon, say I’m singin’ out of tune,
But my musics’ got direction so I know what I’m doin’.
Don’t know where I’m goin’ but I got to keep movin’,
Even if my next step is obscured by the present…
Gotta find the next rung on the stairway to heaven.

– MURS, “18 w/a Bullet,” …The End of the Beginning, 2002.

My first offense was possession of weed,
Now I’m in the major leagues, and
That muthafucka Bill Clinton is a son of a bitch;
Had the nerve to throw out the first pitch.
I’m just tryin’ to get rich like Trump,
The home run king is now in a slump…pass me a hunk.
How the fuck can I stay out the Pen,
When its 1-2-3 strikes, you in?
Ice Cube, “Three Strikes You In,” War & Peace Vol. 1 (The War Disc), 1998. More from O’Shea…
Always knew that I would clock G’s,
But welcome to McDonald’s: May I take your order, please?
Gotta serve ya food that might give you cancer,
Cuz my son doesn’t take no for an answer.
Now I pay taxes that you never give me back;
What about diapers, bottles, and Similac?
Do I have to sell me a whole lotta crack
For decent shelter and clothes on my back?
Ice Cube, “A Bird in the Hand,” Death Certificate, 1991. More from Cube…