Edward Lang – Making Excuses Ain’t Necessary

M.A.N (Making excuses Ain’t Necessary)
It started from the day of my birth,
I was born to a premature death amidst pain, suffering, and adversities at its worst.
Despite being showered with unconditional love from my Nubian Queen,
and just a name inherited by a “man” who was supposed to be my King.
To succeed against the odds of my environment I was told to dream,
to imagine the life that I wanted to control,
so I envisioned the struggles of drug profits ampnd the thug life and my dilemma unfolded.
There was no role models to help mode it, just sin and corruption 10 fold.
As I aged I became a product of urban decay,
a savage in the concrete jungle roting away.
My emotions was bitter and my anger fed my rage,
with everyday that I aged I destroyed a portion of my legacy,
a confused mind caught up in such a complex maze.
I started in the struggle too young to realize the dynamics of the consequences that my actions produced,
to tell the truth I didn’t care because my heart held no ounce of fear or anything of value that could be put to use.
Maybe I did care a little, but in my heart I feel I did all that I could to…
keep afloat in the madness and stay true to,
what I thought was my passage to manhood, but it was the thinking of a mere fool!
I’ve been trying to show unconditional love to the better half of me that my heart onced embraced,
hoping that this love affair that we onced shared will keep my soul from being erased,
the lustful nights we shared eventually produced another half,
now it’s more struggles and financial difficulties that I face.
When I first looked my daughter in her eyes, I knew that I had to MAN up and embrace my responsibilities,
and create for her what my sperm donor failed to create for me,
but my sins wouldn’t allow me to escape so easily and I was compelled against the forces,
I feel that I wasn’t given enough choices,
it was rob, steal, sell drugs, or go broke,
so I chose to rob and steal from the masses of those who sold dope,
taking penitentiary chances to provide for my daughter,
so I was rarely there to tuck her in at night or there in the morning when she awoke.
Now I’m being judged by 12 and I appeal the verdict that wants my neck by the rope,
a journey full of of pain
the crying sorrows of a confused man,
but it’s safe to say that from the day of my birth and I was cursed upon this earth,
that these oppressors tactics made it difficult for me to succeed,
so from the penitentiary I rewrite my legacy,
the last of a dying breed,
repression so deep that I desperately seek relief.
So now I dream with meaning and I plant righteous seeds,
and now I truly understand what being a man really means…..