It a shame but who to blame?
Momma or rather my father,
Walking with a paint on my sole
shoes trying so hard to trace
I had to go through their papers and re-read but I didn find any mark
With a red pen in hand trying to interpose with my life but I fail.
Living maybes it cause of my name well but I was meant to conquer.
When the plane had to drop me in war of life without giving weapons to fight the battles who said I’m a starring.
Even if I tab but I encounter to be called a coward why moving forward when there’s no lead
This case is dead I wanna burn the docket selling my soul was first option just fill my pocket but my soul never used the mark,
Starring mirror press rewind memories replay I don’t see the mark.
My lips my hair my complexion who do I look I overheard them saying mama.
But she was never alone on that night or day if it was
Pre-school till I’m done with class but I don’t fit in
Question WHO AM I?
WHO IS MY FATHER?
I don’t know they all never tell the same story some say he was like you some say it only mother we knew.
I’m just loose cannon a face with screw damage.
You’ll never knew if I didn tell
I tell because I’m done tracing the mark my surname was never meant to be mine when I don’t know who my father was.
It tear me apart on those look alike cause maybe it my brother that you say he looks like me.
The mark that is left is my soul cause I know very well God made it now I need a gun to defend myself from Devil in life war.
I took the blame when I did the same telling that the son was never mine as I look deep in Nanah as she cry I thought I could try.
They say he looks like me
Well it because of THE MARK sorry son I’m still chasing mine.
Jozi Poet|Art Work Ink
VINCES THE SOUL STRIKER VS