An Urban African Poem

This is a poem/rap I wrote a while back - your critique is welcome.


Cospiracies rage, minimum wage after ya finish ya day/
Deep in the system/ the hopeless find peace in religion/
or at least, a reason for living/ while the rest just pray/
Hoping tomorrow holds more promise than the anonymous yesterday/
Eyes blinded to the inner deity/ we wait patiently/
for a change/ obscurity calls our name/ and we walk toward it/
Those who got cash are forced to hoard it/ or forfeit/
but don't expect the poor to all ignore it/
accepting their destiny/ like it was meant to be/
No, the wise try to survive by breeding a hustler mentality/
walking barefoot on the road less travelled/
hoping for the sole of ya feet that it holds less gravel/
risking ya life daily because death is no less hassle/ than being broke/
the uninitiated take a few steps and seem to choke/
Africa is not for feeble folks/ born with silver spoons/
when hard times hit, they most of all, feel the pinch of gloom/
For the unprepared, imagine riding with no reins on a rodeo/
Area boy with a degree, although none of ya homies know/
Poverty'll leave you broken though/
while the rich compile Stock portfolios/
So the rest prey on them like Eagles in the sky/
The weakest niggas die/ intrigued by our desires/
To fly higher than the summit/ but most plummet/
as the wax wings melt/ governments tax with stealth/
while the wise man stacks his wealth/
for seven years of famine/ Its easy to imagine/
A good man turned crook 'cause he had no options to examine/
the madness and insanity/ gradually leads crooks to infamity/
but a criminal's just a hungry man trying to earn a salary/
because a Government cheque can't raise a family/
so we're reduced to tyrannity/ living off a fallacy/
Chop I chop! but they chop more than their belly takes/
till them inflate, big man resemble super heavyweight/
unable to educate and levitate/ so we go on strike and demonstrate/
we forever wait for a solution but the cause just perpetuates/