An oomph in owe!

Who in their right minds place slot machines in the ghetto?
Wanting the poor to gamble with the little they don’t already have.
Be careful of that hip song that makes you hop,
It might just leave with your little hope lost in Christ.
Watch he that shouts in the name of the Divine
Yet his heart like wine is fermented with greed, envy and lust
The prophets have long gone but their prophecies live on,
So in the book possible truth lies, open it and read on.
Get your money, get your money,
But make sure what you get with that money
Don’t come back and get you.
Hmm, what’s that I hear?
Ooh hypnotic choral reverberations of a choir,
A choir that sits on the government sit
Nine to five, five days a week
Singing praises for taxes that make us weak,
In a system that makes us weak, weak, weak.
Mph! Mph! Mhp! What’s that’s smell?
Is a knock at the door?
Don’t guess who it is, curse who it is.

“..Wait a minute. Skin?”

“…that’s why I stopped smoking weed.”
Shit, did I say that out loud?
Hmm! I was just thinking to my self.
Ahhhh! it feels good to be a star
Now I can be free to live my life
I will be all floss and gloss
Stardom is my wife.
From Zim, Dar to Accra
They giggle, the fine ladies
As our eyes meet
The fellows stare in owe
Envy flowing through their veins,
So I thought.
I had dreamt this.
All I need now is to build my empire
My music, my art, my style,
My complete satire.
Yes, yes, yes my empire
And my new attire.
Oh! It felt good, very light
And just the right size.
Like I said, I had dreamt this before.
But the attention was not as much as this
Now, there is fine tuned detail
I can even feel the sun on my smooth star studded skin
“..Wait a minute. Skin?”
Like shock induced paralysis
Bare truth hit me
Surely I had dreamt this before
My stardom comes alive,
My empire comes alive,
But how the hell did I forget that my new clothes
In my dream were just a thought.
“Shit…that’s why stopped smoking weed.”
How do I tell my chick I walked all the way
To the city hall,
Naked?