E.M.O.T.I.O.N.S

In the Palm of His Hand

One pound thorough, Thirteen ounces bred

An innocent child born, but who knew I bled

They say I'm so gangsta, and need to stop cussin

I start bustin, they ducking, then they really know me

But they really don't...

They say imma be miserable in years

My tears don't mean weakness...

I'm speechless!

A hole in my heart born with me, sin torn in me

I'm incomplete.

A doctor was chosen, my mind was frozen

He came close to me, fixed me internally...

Closed up my emotions with a stitch on my heart

So I won't let you in

It pumped steadily with beat, that when I felt the heat

this young thug speaks.

I'm emotional, mysterious, criminal-minded in the sexiest way

No fcking play, I don't give a fck about you anyways...

They say.

Mur-murs, slurs and the curse of the words, all wrong but not sin

I learned through the thin, the thick n...

E.M.O.T.I.O.N.S

Every man, every mind...

Our men and sons are unemotionally ill

Using one side of the brain

The curse and not the gifts,

And no wonder they can't maintain

Their hate, their fate, so they let the trigger bust off

Their ego never go soft, and tears never drop

Playing games to help their physical love increase

Only to decrease when it gets too strong

His heart beating too long...

Boys don't get mature, they finally get some heart

Some joy, some sympathy, stuff they never had

That don't come wrapped in that brown paper bag,

And if you look hard, it's sad...

Because some men don't have what keeps them breathing

...A Heart *