He's Seeing Paths

He's got a MetroPCS and a bike and an alibi

Chinatown, downtown, to Crown Heights and Bed-Stuy

Green paths, grey paths, one way streets

Running through the grid trying to get to point B

Chinese food drivers taking wrong way rides

Driver side doors trying not to collide

Nothing in his mind but a five borough map

Left, right, north, south, east, west, he's seeing paths

His eyes going side to side, scanning for haters

Suspicious doorman pointing at the elevator

Later, he's sitting in the park and thinking

Then he hits the ground running when the burner starts beeping

So (?) and the train (?)

First goes up, the second goes down

James on Broome went six for five

And Mike in Union Square got three

Jimmy on Sixty-Ninth got one

Pablo wasn't home, so he got none

Like the boys in the park making (?)

Like a rook through the board he's seeing paths

At the Wilson Ave checkpoint, he's got to trust his instincts

And slips into the hands of the 83rd Precinct

"Don't touch my bag," he pleads, "Mr. Officer

Nothing in there but clothes and fabric softener"

Yeah they're perched outside every corner store

Cause the powers that be choose to surveil the poor

Avoiding eye contact every time he goes past

(?) the gut of the beast, he's seeing paths