I'm on my way home. They say home is where the hate is. My dome is where fate is. I stroll where souls get lost like vegas. Seen through the eyes of rebel glasses. Pray to god that my arms reach the masses. The young smoke grasping graspless jungles. Rubberband together in cashless bundles. We wear struggling chains. Divided only hustle remains. Making sense of it we hustle for change. Revolution ain't a game. It's another name. For life fighting. Someone to stay in they corner like Mike Tyson. Hypes fighting for hits to heighten they hell. Don't he know he only get as high as he fell. Show money becomes bail. Relationships become jail. Children are unheld. I wish love was for sale. Behold the pale. Horse got me trapped like r. kel' I bail and it-. Might not be such a bad idea if I never never went home again. I'm on my way home. I left three days ago. But no one seems to know I'm gone. Home is where the hatred is. Home is filled with pain and it. Might not be such a bad idea if I never. Never went home again.