Break you off
Pay me by letting me in. Your club is dark and warm, jumping just enough to keep me coming. Since it's Friday and I’m paying, tonight let those bright eyes lead the way.
Put it on you like perfume. Let my scent stick so my territory is marked.
Roll you out of those jeans after you get hot and mouthy from our intoxicating spark… Then hit the favorite spots.
Let's go rounds like a record, like that ass from every angle.
I have plenty to spend to break you off.
The War You’ve Been Fighting Alone
They say the mind is a battlefield, but most people don’t believe it because they aren’t seeing bullets or bodies. No shrieks to warn them off regret. No sudden realization that they might die alone, far from family, whispering a last hope for one more last chance. Thinking, maybe a wind’s chilling howl will carry their memory home.
That’s the easy death.
Doubt is the one we think we’re too hard and strong for. Especially when we’re giving advice, or talking ourselves up to people beneath us, chest out after a good fuck like nothing can touch us.
New Culture Vultures
All these Black leaders and influencers saying they’re doing it for the culture while pricing us out of it.
Fetish-it
Lips so soft,
my dick wants a French kiss.
Feet so pretty,
I wanna fuck and suck them like titties.
I see that ass
and want to pump like a pogo stick.
Pussy is like dewy fruit,
fresh like a happy morning.
I rise.
Her wetness glistens
for a sparkling warm entrance.
She grips and holds
until the magnificent heartfelt lesson unfolds —
layers open
the deeper we go.
An invitation to explore the body’s mind,
its rhythmic learning
gives the grade —
fail
or deserving
to visit her outer limits.
QUIET STORM
When the past comes to haunt you,
it doesn’t knock, it moves in.
It watches you grind,
it studies your growth,
and it waits for the cracks that still remember yesterday.
You try to rise, to do better.
But people stand back with clean hands,
offering distant support so they don’t get dragged and dirty if you fail.
Your pussy ain’t fucking, your wife with the pretty lips ain’t fucking, and you wonder why they call you handsome, but you don’t look in the mirror after you take your hand and get you some.
Growth gets ugly.
Healing gets lonely.
But the quiet storm?
That’s where real men are forged.
HIGH POWERED
Being High on Emotion Is a Dangerous Drug
It blinds you to your own reflection.
You only see the parts that prove you right.
I can always find a reason, a defense, a story that makes me look justified.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not wrong, or that I didn’t build this consequence with my own hands.
When you’re high-powered on emotion, you take a simple truth and beat it with doubts and old memories until it becomes the chaos you imagined.
If you think you’re always right,
if you keep falling back into those same defense tactics you learned as a kid when you felt ambushed or alone,
you’ll always be the wrong man for the moment your life could finally go right.
Emotional control isn’t about being numb.
It’s about being honest enough to pause before you burn down the bridge that was meant to save you.
Learn the 3 Stripes
(Yes… stripes, not strikes. At a certain time in my life, me and my brothers only wore Adidas.)
1. Pause Before You Swing
When emotion hits, the instinct is to fight.
You start reaching for old weapons: pride, silence, sharp words.
But pause.
Breathe before you justify.
Ask yourself: “Am I protecting my peace, or just my pride?”
That one breath can turn a breakdown into a breakthrough.
2. Call It What It Is
Don’t hide behind anger when it’s really hurt.
Don’t call it discipline when it’s really fear.
Say what you feel, not who you blame.
That’s how you keep control of your story instead of letting your story control you.
Power starts where honesty begins.
3. Own the Fire
Every man faces fire.
Most run from it.
But the right man stands still long enough to understand it.
Control isn’t about taming emotion; it’s about mastering your response when it hits.
Stillness isn’t softness, it’s strategy.
The man who stays calm when chaos calls the loudest is the one who wins.
Wood Morning-Coffee, Hard starts & Soft Lips
Oh.
Today.
There’s a lot to do.
Woke up with a headache,
caffeine for my manhood will take away the pain.
Warmth from a pair of my ladies’ soft lips
and I’ll be ready to conquer.
Go think in the shower.
Calculate the day.
Strategies for the mind-
legs over shoulder
or baby bend over.
Either way, the grip makes me her whore
and my flow wins her over,
every way I want her.
All I Need to get By
All I want is laughter and love.
Too many lips lure you to believe lies. Leads too many to trust people who profit when you're lost.
Take your time serious, or anger will tick you off until you explode.
Let's talk about it before the wrong thoughts and emotions are let off and we get hooked on the life we don’t want.
Lust feels like luxury, but love and laughter feel like home, and that's where the good life lives.
Can’t Be Still
I been down so long I can’t be still.
Moving towards an ascent. Money, a woman’s switch, better books, environment, and food for health. I need to feel them between my fingers.
My eyes dart. My heart races. Shuffling through people frozen in circles of better tomorrows because their high vacates today’s sorrows.
I ain’t with running in place. I know mine and it’s at the table with the most high. Surrounded by the grace pumping from my heart. I’m at the point where suffering is an afterthought.
I put family first. To make me a shooting star, moving without fizzle. I am the light of my family’s will.
Cut Your Losses
I talk to God every day.
The only one who doesn’t think I’m tripping.
Just warns me, nudges me to learn my lesson.
I look at my family, armor on,
unsure which dad is walking through the door.
Ready for war over disagreements.
I don’t want our bond to die,
so I let a lot slide.
But when they treat me like an easy target,
I let loose. Attitudes mowed down with honesty.
The type that hurts,
makes them treat a man like he’s x’d
of the lives he raised and gave strength.
It’s hard to understand how love grows so intense
it makes people want to stick together
through storms that tear whole worlds apart.
And still, temptation finds a way in.
Sliding quiet, birthing an end,
digging new graves where trust once bloomed.
For the one who pulled your weeds,
helped root a future in strong, healthy,
mental and physical beliefs.
Even when emotions shifted like seasons,
love always returned to provide.
But now you’re the drought.
Watering a different crop.
And with every drop
on different lips, new pillows, new sheets,
cries from dreams ruined
the evidence of us,
our memories, our soil, is left to dry out and die.
Closer Than You Think.
Whatever you can’t tell your spouse or partner, you’re using to create a graveyard of bodies to seduce away boredom and fuck up your life like you were young.
Always beating them to the room where your phone is. Keeping it close to your chest and hidden like a heartbeat.
Only excitement can calm. Firing the synapses of temptation like lust is a new drug she can’t stop blowing and penetrating.
A man always sees. Quietly strategizing an end without decimating his family, similar to a landmine.
Destruction is closer than cheaters think.
Al Bundy
I thought about Carl Thomas, singing how “I wish I never met her at all,” as I sat heartbroken from a brief disagreement in the middle of a wonderful family moment. Wifey was delighted to be there with the children but looked at me like I was aggravation intruding.
I can choke on water and feel embarrassed instead of feeling a consoling hand on my back. That makes a man want to act dead wrong. And now she’s the only one in my corner since my mother and grandmothers are gone.
The Rough-House Gospel
Image from Pinterest EL BARRIO ESTÁ CALIENTE - @ALAMAYY
Some days, lately, feels like there’s too much to forgive. I’ve been a blues man since happiness died in that first drive-by. Thirteen turned both lucky and unhinged from reality, where ghetto youth become God’s children.
It had to be written. I know that day it was. We all believed. We could make it out. Cheered on and distracted by girls who played with ballers that didn’t bounce. They stood tall. Shrunk when the ground helped them rest. Left their girls weary, struggling to live with less. Sons lost without men with discipline.
Moms would rather disappear than look at you and see a distorted resemblance of him through ugly tears.
The school that made boys into men was the rough-house. Nana made you fight fair and square, then fed you both because angry men healed through food, love, and care. She warned to wear a condom when you needed to be tamed by more. And lived by a respectful woman's code. Flesh makes men weak, so make sure your main woman ain't allowing the world sneak peaks.
Grandpops chimed in with “young pups don’t need a litter slowing down their run.”
Couldn’t help thinking he was talking about us. Grandchildren he raised, while his own were running to be put down from their plague of addiction
Wounds healed slow. Tended with pours that stung. Made you official when you could handle an elder’s sacred life water.
I saw angels those days. Spirits with faces of love, peace, and danger. Every one of them for me. When you live a certain way, you try to manifest joy and feel pain.
That’s when I saw how my scripture was written unless I changed my story.
Verses of Love
Art from Pinterest
I went to a family concert and nearly cried the whole time. Sang the songs of an artist my children enjoyed their entire life, particularly my 18-year-old son. I felt the holes a father couldn’t fill as the stranger’s words made them feel at home.
I wondered if they believed I did the right things. If they understood the love, I worked to give. Or if they focus on disappointment when my sacrifices didn’t deliver and make every day feel like Christmas.
I kept my eyes closed to drown myself in the moment. They go fast as life carries on, with a flood of distractions, and a father’s needs are the heaviest ones.
Listening to the voice that remains precious to my young, his words express peace, love, fairness, equality, and action. Blacks and Irish have always had an interesting brotherhood. I never imagined Hozier would take me to church, make me feel I needed to do more, be more, and know more about my children.
I thought I preferred, or at least didn’t mind being alone, until I realized I was making my love unknown.
The Don of America’s Hood
Yeah boy…
The second turning started in 2024. When the world pretended it didn’t know what was in store. He was resurrected like the necromancer. A tyrant let loose for glutton, spreading madness and decay like a diseased king.
He thinks life’s only worth nuttin on bitches and money.
His good ol’ boys thought life was easy pickings. Didn’t realize they were getting buttered as the main dish. They lined up and voted for the slaughter. Masked up to eliminate veterans and grandparents. Some were the OG’s whose organizations built this country from blood and labored love.
The simple plan for a wannabe master. MAGA is code for MerikAs Ghetto bAstards.
Every day he tells the world to open up, or get on their knees for another slob with less power. He takes chances with your money and life. Feels he is worth more. Knows he’s above the law and dares you to prove him wrong.
He fabricates news and crimes. That’s how he keeps times hard. In his sick mind, he’s the world’s kingpin pimp. Gaming the world to be his main bitch. That’s how he Maxxxed out Epstein like his favorite young virgins.
The simple 'plan for a wannabe master. MAGA is code for MerikAs Ghetto bAstards.
Inspired by Compton's Most Wanted - Growing Up In The Hood (Boyz N The Hood Soundtrack)
Lies Spread Like Legs
Woes of the world. Everything's violent.
Conversations are had with the intent to embarrass. So-called leaders sentencing murder upon their own people to present their greatness as having no equal.
They plead with common sense to remain silent and clear the air for loud mouths talk’n shit. When you can’t smell the wretchedness, you won’t believe you’re being poisoned.
When you stand your ground, move and think with class and respect as a human is meant, you become a danger. Strange, in a world where Dr.s are educated in the school of influence. Prescribing ignorance, porn, drugs, and violence. Lies spreading like legs on fans-only to say men are weak because they don’t want a woman who’s had more training than a military squadron.
Everybody’s tight. Trust is rare. They think everybody else is hard up to give a raw deal. Being pussy and revenge minded makes the best men escape from their morals. The wrong discipline will break you faster than a sucker for love.
WARNING
Art from Pinterest
I just wanna squeeze on my Wizzes Ass and kiss on her lips. That soft world of pleasure can make the most miserable man reminisce…And remember why he chose the bitch.
If she ever thinks about an ex she deserves it rough and hard, then be sent on.
The only X’s allowed are from porn. But too much makes the O’s unwelcome, scarred, and boring. Closing your eyes, hoping for the sight of another body to risk it all for.
Need Sexual healing like Marvin, without being haunted by a father's understanding of the struggle manhood adorns.
Love spooks, and lulls. Those who lack and can’t hold on, fall to depths of the lost. Fighting your way back makes you damaged goods.
When I watched Billy Paul sing about Mrs. Jones, looking like a man who lost his soul on a train of blow, or trying to hide the tracks where love went off the rails.
Catch me at the right time I might pop one. Lust makes you wild with your tongue. I like’em pretty and on my shoulders waving to God. Body saying hallelujah, in codes seeded by love.
You’ve Been Warned.
Not What You Thought
She loves me. She loves me not.
When you test a man he will pass on his terms. Put your feelings on standby.
Some women say happy wife happy life. You will never hear that out of a satisfied man's mouth.
Happy spouse, happy house, means peace for everyone involved.
Men tell you what they want. But women get mad because they want to be loved for who they are, even when they don't like the changes, they want us to accept, as if maintaining and raising standards means you don’t love them.
Treat your relationship like a game, and watch ankles and hearts break.
Chasing what could've been stopped, and crushed when new, positive support gets under the dog to help'em win what he's been trying to get from you for so long.