I was baited in the ghetto by he trap of self hate
when I was simply seeking help
As I sat there and talked to the profession
A shadow was purposely and slowly working its way into my orbit
My conversation was what I thought private
but out of the shadow an accent came, spoke interrupted without giving his name
He started making accusation of why this and that, I was still caught of gaurd’
because I was ambushed into an Uncle Tom’s Fire
Even though I was caught of guard like a deer in head lights
I kept my cool and didnt start to fight.
I wanted to get up and start cursing, Run through the establishment
hollaring what just happened,
If I had to resolve my problem while in anger this way
I would be the one looking crazy
And in the end the sick ghetto pathology would stay in place
and ole Uncle Tom would be ready for the next case.