Hello, everybody. Stephen Lynn Nicholson again here in Jackson, Michigan, of course. As always, supporting Prisoner Creative Arts Project all over the world, but specifically University of Michigan, prisonradio.org. Support, support, support them.
I got this old classic poem I wrote years ago. It was really specifically like a prayer for my sister and her son. And, and then it just went into something else even deeper, so it’s kind of long, but please bear with me. This poem is called, ”Horns Off.”
Horns Off
Coercing recidivism is what Michigan civilians lack knowing
Regarding prison systems, population control emissions
That’s destroying our families and siblings.
Reminiscent of this, so gorgeous is my little sis, little Miss Lulu.
She act cuckoo.
She treat people like doodoo, like she’s stricken with voodoo,
Get high and loopy like Froot Loops.
She’s too tooted to get through to, and even if God do,
She misconstrue it for false truth.
So, I scream inside, “Lord, what do I do?”
While Laura try to beat down the door to Satan’s tomb.
She’s lost just like Nicky Cruz and Emily Rose.
But this ain’t no horror show.
It’s her real life, bro, and she think that anything goes,
From beating on hoes to trading blows with bros,
Then upload the videos to YouTube.
She’s for real out of control,
And raising up a son who don’t even know love for sho,
Let alone a God above who just wants to wrap him in hugs.
So, I’m rapping for her son, my little dog,
My little nephew Lavell.
This prayer go out for you, to keep you from hell.
Proclamation of Jesus’s blood I cover you in,
And God’s family with me agree as well.
Two or more gathered in His name get the job done.
As He come down, we won,
Mostly cause His Son got the job done on Calvary,
Blocking out the sun.
He won, breaking down the Earth.
First time the Earth was truly shook.
Now we are ruling with an iron foot.
Satan’s neck is stepped on like the kings in Joshua’s book.
His goose is cooked, as we quote the Good Book.
So, I search for truth that hurts.
I constructively criticize even if it gets me murked,
Cause I’m saved by grace and not works.
Attacks I can reverse as I coerce lions in the Daniel den,
As I’m willing to suffer and hurt for truth that works
Like Mandela way back when.
And this battle will never end
When we are fighting corruption from a foundation
Way back to Washington and Jefferson.
The fact they call them founding fathers
Got me praying Our Father,
And I praise Him cause He’s creating art in heaven,
Cause without this hopeful, illumined essence
Of a promised residence, I’d go back to murder and mayhem.
Reminiscing, I can take you back to a day
When the Herman Gardens projects in Detroit were not playing.
If you was not a native, you could not stay in,
Not even by naturalization.
And this realization of invitation
That is standard throughout the nations
Is so exclusive, and that’s why I gave into The Exclusive,
Permanent adoption from a Father who is watching and always got us.
So, don’t be fooled by the many imposters
Like Beelzebub, who try to blind us with drugs,
Lust through false love, and tons of lies that are easy to trust.
But don’t fear the reaper; God’s the grave digger.
So, Satan, just beat it.
Jesus done beat you, and He so can release us.
It’s time for a massacre on the masses of the demon legions.
Through Christ who strengthens me,
I can break them in pieces and eat them up like some Reese’s Pieces.
You’re just tasty treat, cuz,
And you’re simple to beat, blood, cause of the blood.
Yeah, the blood of the Lamb
That brought the Holy Ghost to scare you out your shorts.
So, my bros invoke the Holy Ghost,
Using strong-armed quotes,
Which will be like bang to his home and bang to his dome,
Bang to every petty thing that you ever thought you known.
Your pride is overgrown.
Dog, don’t you know all the knowledge of the world,
It will be overthrown by the King on the throne?
Yeah, I think you know, but you choose to ignore.
So, you’ll lose in the end no matter what the score.
That’s if God was keeping score,
But He ain’t because that ain’t grace.
Though you can win and lose rewards,
So, be thorough and don’t worry about tomorrow,
But faithfully use your authority,
Which is from infinity and is God-breathed.
But when you are lacking belief,
Spirits get heaved by delinquent deeds due to selfish needs,
True actuality, wants and desires.
Now role reversal is required on this universal metaphysical spire,
And our sons and daughters are in a selfless need for fathers
Who alter family structure with attitudes of, “Why bother?”
They’re completely lost in the sauce,
Like a dope fiend from The Wire.
Get off that high wire and conspire an entire plan
To acquire God’s original design for our life that our children can admire.
And I’m not trying to burn you with hellfire,
But when iron sharpens iron, sparks go flying.
This is God’s timing for me to responsibly get to testifying what He did for me,
Like how now I excel in life, fluently.
When I lived for Satan, I lived real truantly,
Like Satan who is defeated presently and futuristically.
Then he’ll be let loose when it’s seasonally.
But with my spirit being holy, I smoke em down like a Lucy,
Not like when I was a slave to Lucy and I lived life loosely,
Living selfishly and denying G-O-D.
Now I’m stuck up in the joint for L-I-F-E, or so that’s what the state tells me.
But MDOC ain’t my daddy.
I got Abba.
I don’t need a baba or wishes from Alibaba.
I’m eating red meat and lobster,
Reading up His text like a spiritual scholar,
Spiritual vittles that are essential to keep you from going mental.
Through Jesus’s credentials, my potential don’t flutter
Like Shutter Island, where you losing time and wish for dying.
See, I ain’t even trying,
Cause I’m flying through life relying on God’s timing.
His promises are binding that open eyes of the blind
And last beyond the dying of Earth and its heavenly bindings.
Reverberations of destruction can’t touch His words spoken,
Which last more than the gaping alteration generating the phrasing,
You can’t touch this.
Dun-dun-dun-dun, hammering our brainwaves into this very day,
Cause you think God’s display of wordplay
Can’t touch this game played by Satan every day?
Test the theory and speak life to this defeated enemy
And see the goodness of our Daddy
Who gave us the key to victory through the bloody cross of Calvary.
JC’s power is colder than Calgary,
Like when Suge hung Ice off the balcony,
Freezing Lucy so beautifully
From hurting you and me
When we activate our faith like we are Mr. Freeze.
And we are shooting for keeps
That make Satan doubt his original mutiny.
And people be like, “You telling me Satan is jealous of me?”
Yeah. Now exercise your authority
And get ripped up like Shaun T is your homie and you’re doing spiritual Insanity.
These promises He keeps that I’m dictating to thee
Are like profanity to the enemy.
So, I’ma keep cussing that cur till it occurs to him he’s soft like a little girl
And he learn to stay out of my world.
Let’s keep pounding his turf with power sent to Earth
For those who wait, like it say in Luke 24:48. My mistake, that’s verse 49.
But we got grace, so mistakes are fine.
Plus, it give me time to say that Jesus’s power ain’t even as great as mine.
What? Yeah, according to the line in John 14:12,
We’re all meant to outshine Jesus’s miraculous times due to our heavenly lifeline.
So, I receive His power through the pipeline,
And His deals are more lucrative than drug trade lines
Conceived from NAFTA’s incentivized move
To give the 1% more power and loot than us peasants in hopes that we start dying.
But moss and rust corrupt, messing those presents up,
And will pass away,
But God’s presence is with us for infinite days.
So, your faulty display of lying, we ain’t buying.
So, I’m just gonna keep grinding like Cash was in the 90s
Until the time we get our slice of pie in the sky, man.
We gonna live forever. We ain’t never dying.
These commentaries are recorded by Prison Radio.
