City Life
Not too far away from
The Hall that the late
and Great
Mr Ali
floated effortlessly
around in
did I recently not dodge or weave
away from a ticket for
Strolling in the middle on the misty grey concrete.
Cars passing in a moment.
Read the speed on the street.
Be precise.
Know when the time is right.
Calm movement.
Be ready don't hesitate.
Know the goal at hand.
To get to the other side.
Suddenly stopped searched and asked for ID
All I have is my permit on me.
Now I'm thinking real loud
Fuck The police!
Niggas out here dying trying to survive.
And Now I have a warrant? Bitch I cant even drive.
Cause I'm black?
I'm sure its that.
But its all about snatching
The money from this generation
A traffic violation
turns into a citation
required paper notarization.
Downtown Atlanta style.
R.I.P. Mr. Ali
