It's about midnite. My pockets are tight
but still I'm rushing to look real right
joining the line in which I'm shoving
with other bodies. Getting uptight to feel the blue
lights shine upon my skin
on the dim dance floor.
I want more, most of the time--but sometimes
a loud distraction's all I have--
A little bit of sinful interaction as the boom beats the ear --my red makes it greater.
One jam gets me open
till the master with the fader got me--
Filled to the hilt with instant satisfaction.
Eyes scoping --
Watchin' bad man with they backs dem
Glued up to the wall.
B-boys in the middle fall.
The hole opens up like a chasm.
The next joint's a higher happening, escalating.
By the door, more ladies come wading in.
Now the trickle is a sea of ancient faces,
and ancient traces up in the scene
as means riddims lick my vision.
Half closed eyes reveal prisms of dark lights,
steam rising from lips holding the spark.
Strobes deflect from a bottle raised
to set the dark on fire.
Just for a second, it's too good.
I'll think of heaven in the morrow.
For now, my sorrows get drowned
by speaker sounds.
Suddenly I get awoken
My high daze becomes a haze of bodies.
Above the music, girl screams erupt the party.
Stampeding feet fall heavy --
laying the beat with an unsynchronized,
death defying rhythm.
Over in the corner on the left side--
Some slide, others are tilting toward the action.
Getting packed like the main attraction.
Chairs scrape linoleum--
because the din that we were lost in
is now gone.
A loud CRACK,
followed by two in quick succession.
A second suspension.
Silence ignites the tension...
Then it lets loose:
A brown hand spied holding the steel,
The crowd scatters to the lone exit.
The corners are packed.
A large speaker tumbles over.
One girl slides in a puddle when jumping over
a brown jacket
Now it's a loner.
The brown hand reveals its owner.
The chasm grows into an open tremor.
Wild eyes say "Get the FUCK out my way!"
We move collectively,
But not together, see?
'Cause it's survivial's for the fittest.
Stray bullets in easy targets.
Sure death for any witness.
The heat of two minutes before is dampened,
like the spreading darkness on the floor.
And some voice is screaming in pain--
somewhere in vain, for we hear and don't hear.
The competition for the exit is in full gear.
Who'll make it? Who'll live to see tomorrow?
Who'll be shaking?
Who will be a shell --hollow?
I reach the door, squeeze and shove--
a cold wind hits,
but fuck a jacket. I'm almost out--
but the crowd hits smack into a wall of blue.
Black irons control the movement backwards.
Hands fly upwards to meet the ceiling.
Eyes get wide. My heart skips.
Will MY statistics be in forensics when the lights hits?
"Nobody move!" "Get the FUCK back!"
slapped smack into the bar near the front.
I can almost fell the bullets pummeling into my skull.
I'm pulled up, pushed and held in the position with the others.
Colorless lips bark the orders.
I can feel my heart caught in my stomach as an army
of blue clad enforcers
rush to the back
where the floor holds the borders for a
Poppin' is deafening. Bullets are leveling
the brown hand to meet the
Dark stains continue to pour.
3 bodies hold the spot where we dance no more.
One sob escapes a throat
held at bay beneath the booth.
More blue invade the dim lighted tomb
that holds the proof.
A triple hit/murder/suicide, one and the same.
Caught on the inside,
nobody wants to give their name.
The crime scene comes alive
with squads of plain clothes and uniforms
getting busy on us who got much to hide.
By time I hit the outside--it's dawn.
The sun hasn't shown its form,
but pink light illuminates the storm
that rages on the inside.
My pride took a fall.
I feel like my people,
we ain't got nothing at all.
My throat's bustin with a lump.
My nose quivers as I shiver.
The cold won't let me forget
that I went to be delivered
for just a moment in time
by beats and food for the brain.
The midnite was alright.
Now the dawn brings back the pain.