The eternal struggle, between good and evil, is nothing new…
Every mans conscience, reminds him of the difference, between right and wrong
The decision of life, or death, is an easy one… but not everything, is black, and white…
And to the brown man, who wears a blindfold, what is day or night, dark, or light…
Like every Libra before him, he relies on his scales for balance… For he knows, that one can not exist without the other… there is no sweet, without the bitter.. or joy without the pain..
But what happens when that man tires from having the weight of the world on his shoulders…
When he loses all faith, and his moral compass becomes askew, to the point he doesn’t know what’s a lie, and what is true… When his wounds leave him open… and his conscience becomes broken…. These, are the scales, of a broken Libra….

Can’t, blame it on my scales I know it’s me that’s broke
But still I’m plotting on the daily to achieve my goals
Tell me what’s it really means if I can feed my folks
But I can’t be there, for those, that mean the most
In my thirst for knowledge, I been keeping notes
And I’ve found this industry is fulla thieves and clones
2012, shit’s real, time to cease the jokes
Is my soul really sold, like a demon hoax
5 years off the pipe, no more weed to smoke
When amongst warlords inner peace provokes
Never worried bout the cost, all they see is gross
More than meat and bones, I’ma beast with clothes
Making magic out of tragedy with beats and flows
Most teach they peeps, but me I seek the globe
Too many to count competitors all fall like leaves in groves
Chicks come begging to make cum skeet and moan
Tryna see me on my back, knee deep in hoes
But I know better, than to let em, beneath my robe
So I chose, to be alone, free from foes
Now I’m cold, can’t even, find a decent coat
And I’m falling so quick, I need a rope
Praying to keep my family alive and release my locs
And for the families of their victims increase their hopes
So that’s the message I’ma preach, til I reach the pope

2 scales, balanced perfectly I’m in between
One, is the underground, the other, is the industry
Evaluating numbers studying statistically
But deep inside my hearts saying, think realistically
Money, fame, drugs and hoes no this isn’t me
All I need is trust and respect to live simply
My evil side is saying fuck it, you’re a living king
All while the better half of me, humbly disagrees
Painting mental pictures with metaphorical similes
Knowing if I lay with dogs, I’ll wake up with some fleas
And there’s no way to shake the rats when it comes to getting cheese
Temptation in its finest form, still is a tease
My flesh is weak, so weak like I got syphilis
So every night I pray, right after I hit my knees
If I die tonight, at least, let me rest in peace
As I pick up my pistol and let the trigger squeeze