Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!
Material Hill
Top of the heap
King of the hill
Rolling in clover
Making the kill
Success to some
Is being number one
No matter the cost
They have to flex and floss
Preening and primping
Glorifying pimping
Strutting in their vanity
Its absolute insanity
Dissing all humanity
They sell out their own family
Climbing to the top
Getting every thrill
On the way up
The material hill
Got to be clever
To achieve this endeavor
Got to be slick
To beat the other tricks
Clawing and biting
Back stabbing and fighting
What ever it takes
For them to win the stakes
To give their self a history
As an outlaw with a mystery
They pretend to be your man
While stealing all they can
They dress themselves in funky beats
Bringing terror to the streets
Promoting ever vice and crime
With the motto I got mine
Why worry about the little chaps
If they get hurt oh well then snaps
Kids stay out grown folks business
I did a bid so I could witness
I'm out here at the whole shebang
I'd kill a corpse to get my thang
I am only for myself
Don't give a damn for no one else
This sound is the background
Of the money getters rhymes
This chorus son says pour us one
To high life and fast times
They're hot because they simmer
But they need to remember
The hill is a grave
The thrill is a cage
The climber is a slave
Of the most depraved
Written by Orlando S. Boykin
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