Clyde Jackson IV - Hell Hath An Exit 2: Veneration

2022 Clyde Jackson IV

ISBN: 978-1-66-784886-0

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

If youre reading this, I am going to assume that you have made it out of your own personal Hell, or that youve at least made some attempt. Either way, you followed my bread crumbs that have led you to this point. To get here, you have acquired what I have coined and like to refer to as the bless-cipe. This is the esoteric knowledge that The Creator has bestowed upon you to overcome a trying and difficult time/situation in your life. Like I stated previously, obtaining the map out of Hell is cute, but never returning to Hell is the impressive part. Did you use your discernment to learn about yourself and what tools you used to vacate you trying situation? I know I sure did. A bit of advice if you have as well. Build a structure on top of the foundation that you laid!

What I mean by my last statement in the previous paragraph is that you should multiply your efforts if that effort was a tool that you used to escape your own personal Hell. If you worked a job and saved money, keep working and save MORE money. If you taught yourself something beneficial, why stop there? Keep teaching yourself, maybe this time you will get to a point where you teach others. Maximize your efforts. Respect the Gift! The Creator heard your cause and delivered you. Your departure could have been given to someone else. For this reason, you have a duty to show veneration. By definition, great respect.

For me, veneration was a lifelong journey that started with my love for reading and writing. I taught myself everything I know, and everything I show others. I loved to read and write longer than I can remember. I told you previously that my walk of life was that of a low-life hustler. A petty nickel and dime drug dealer. Way before that, I used to read and write, but in my brush with the underworld, I used my gift of writing to write raps that talked about things I indulged in, such as gambling, drug dealing, jewelry, and whatever else was trending or peaked my interest. When I made it out of my own personal Hell, I still had my affinity for reading and writing, but my content changed. My frequency and vibration was raised, and I spoke life instead of death.

I wrote this song and I titled it, Unholy. This song is the best thing that I have written in my life, simply because it consists of everything righteous that I have ever learned. If I ever lost my way, even a little bit, I could go and listen to myself and be reminded that I have a dog in the fight. I can place myself back on track and remain as militant as I taught myself to be. I know the bless-cipe that delivered me, and Ill be damned if I mistreat, neglect, or let it go to waste. It will never be derelict! Whatever gift The Creator vested in you, I suggest you treat it the same way that I treat mine, or better. It will play a great role in keeping you on the straight and narrow. For me, my bless-cipe came in the form of knowing who liberators and oppressors are. In this treatise, I will harp on a couple of each!

(Written By me on 10/21/18 and completed 1/07/19)

Slim chance we survive, and its gettin thinner. My god, Rosa Parks, they finna forget ya/ He couldnt tell me anything bout Emmet Tills killers, but remembered every single stat on SportsCenter/ Go to google to ask about Betty Shabazz. See him as a regular cat instead of a dad/ Half empty, half full, but the same glass. Do you think of slave-catchers when you see a badge?/ Owned us for centuries, blood on the leaves. You unholy if you never own up and read/ Strong people, righteous deeds, and atrocities. Mean to tell me that you only want some strong weed?!?!?/ Well, here goes a story bout them Jordans on ya feet. Im pretty sure you havent heard about Michael Eugene/ In 89 he was 15, his shoe game was mean. A status symbol poor people see all over t.v./ They found his body bear-footed and strangled in the trees. Yo fantasy is superficial, realitys deep/ Jesse Jackson told us to boycott the powers that be. Lives went down the drain, so they blamed Spike Lee/ Damn right, these people playin with loaded dice. If youre white, you automatically go the coldest ice/ My past life is where you could get a flo as nice. Ghost writer for Nipsey Russel and Dolemite/ Cant paraphrase White Mans Burden, to me youre a serpent. Race war, they catch you sippin that syrup, its curtains!/ You not adding to the plight of your people, you perfect. Mass graves revealed slaves were malnourished/ Act like you cant understand why were so out-of-hand. Im incapable of compromising, I comprehend/ The kind that cant be degraded, you better come again. Not really common sense to know trailer trash is the Clan/ Niggas nominal, to them informations a trend. To measure real rebels, look at his number of friends/ My closest of kin aint call my number again. Eventually what you represent comes out in the end/ Dan Freeman, they wanna know what my weakness is. Heavy liftin, back 2 da village to teach the kids/ This the frequency keepin Kenneka out the fridge. Them white folks and black codes is devious/ Makin my ears hurt, should be ashamed of your verse. Every jerk wanna be heard, but aint sayin a word/ I brought em back from the dead, now they out of the dirt. Pull up on the instrumental, hop out of the hurse/ Dont know of the Israelites, but you always at church? You servin em now, they was the Panthers at first/ Let you in on a secret, youre the Gods of the Earth. Under the rug, so you shoot at each other and twerk/ Miseducation not addin up with historys pages. Before North American slavery, we was amazin/ Even in persecution, they see our style and take it. Then lie about our contribution to civilization/ The nerve of them hoes, write this shit down and explode. Cause it could be a mushroom cloud if you step on his toes/ Whats yo purpose? I cant stop til the Devils exposed. Grannys bad health is connected to Jim Crow/ Think a lyricist is a brick in the pyramid? Ya research, is it longer than an extended clip?/ Wont inform ya bout penicillin for syphilis. Dr. Kenneth and Mamie, the Clark Experiment/ Uneducated, self-hatred, and guinea pigs. Talent and Tupac, cause thats the way it is/ Books pile in exile, escape the grid. Fights on websites is not the way to live/ Neutralize. Better known as crucify. What messiah? Niggas wanna be Supafly/ White Supremacy, lemme walk you through the design. Religion, youre at the bottom, they even used science/ Brothers on the corner say we the People of Zion. But its hard to have faith when I see that we dyin/ and the dark races still havent formed an alliance. European headquarters in most of our minds/ The Ancestors would say, youre bullshittin today. Back in the Antebellum South, you wouldnt have got away/ No time for children to play, and no room for mistake. 13 was old age, check the mortality rate/ 25 percent, we had to take it and grin. Massa got you bent? Get outta line and get lynched/ Subhuman, and the laws only pertain to men. Ulysses Grant, we fucked if the confederates win/ Mr. Garrison, tell em that we just want some land. Field order 15, it didnt go as planned/ Ignorant blacks cant vote, ignorant whites can. Spanish American War, what about Vietnam?/ We aint welcomed at your table to eat a piece of bread. But yet you were constantly fed from black womens breast/ Everybody pays the Piper when He comes to collect. Feminism, you the Devil, even Beckys oppressed/ Yes, Thomas Dixon Jr. told you I was a threat. Not to ever introduce the muscle to intellect/ Without the rights the white mans bound to respect. This the sound the white mans bound to regret/ You can keep ya cosmetology and Socratese. See, I come a long way from being property/ Found out everything I learned was lies, honestly. Found out everything I learned was lies, honestly. (the end)