Misery vs. Karma ... By Malik Jones!

My Brother's Something Like a Lyrical Genius ENJOY!



This chick named Misery can throw a bangin ass party,
she don’t need flyers, posters, or even a venue to get it started.
All she needs to do, is convince one soul,
then they’ll try and bring their whole family… both young and old.
Friends, coworkers… even people in the street,
then everyone will bring everyone… that everyone meets.
The drinks get to flowing… the bar be popping,
the dance floor be packed, and aint nobody stopping.
The DJ in the booth… bumpin the latest hits,
ladies on the dance floor screamin, “That’s my shit!”
The party is goin on… and don’t stop til the mornin,
while they yawnin still on the floor… determined to bring the dawn in.
Every is dude is live… and every girl is hot,
everybody got swag… up in Misery’s spot.

Now, here come that bitch Kharma, ready to tear shit up,
rolls up in the spot… smackin niggas cups.
Pullin on girls’ hair… shovin dudes into walls,
uppercut to the bouncer, after swift kick to the balls.
Got folks runnin, fleeing, duckin, dodging, leavin cryin,
but many stick around, and watch as Misery steps in.
She jumps up angry… “Hoe, you messing with my money,
coming in here startin shit… messin with my company!”
But Kharma is determined, cause these to are her people,
and she’s ready to throw down… against Misery’s evil.
Like the slick sly snake that she’s always been,
throws her drink in Kharma’s face… kick to the shin.
Drunks around cheering as the host has her way,
a quick hook to the chin, and on the floor Kharma lay.

Misery beats her chest, as she celebrates victory,
while Kharma taste her blood thinking, look what this bitch did to me.
She rises up to her feet… with a stumbling stance,
mouth dripping red, but still ready to dance.
Misery rendered Kharma weak, noticing sorrow and pain,
and it’s at that point she’s at the top of her game.
She goes for the throat… reaches in from afar,
pretty soon it will be Kharma sittin at the bar.
Drinking with the girls… Jealousy and Hate,
Envy is there too yelling “Manip, you late!”
Vindictive was in the bathroom, as he’s a true playa,
knowing just when to move… just what to say to ya.
Conniving is at the door collecting all the money,
Fake and Phony are the twins, Spite think everything’s funny.
The door opens up, and in walks Pride,
usually on the fence, but taking Misery’s side.
Kharma is outmatched… the odds are not in her favor,
but in walks Guilt and Shame… who’ve come in to save her.
Misery smiles and grins at the challenge she faces,
yanks her earring, greases up… tightens her laces.
Her cohorts walk up, and stand ready in position,
Laughing… hysterically… about the ease of their mission.

Kharma… emerges… to the middle of the floor,
but then there’s a faint… knock knock on the door.
They decided to not answer, then the bell was buzzed,
so Nosey and Gossip, needing to know who it was.
Opened up the door… to a blinding light,
it was Love and his homies… ready to fight.
Faith, Happiness, and Joy came through,
Peace and Hope… gone make it do what it do.
Patience was in there, with her virtuous ways,
Optimism, Belief… and Support comes and stays.
Care and Polite… steps up in a hustle,
while Respect and Understanding, is ready to tussle.

Misery looks on, and in her arrogance says,
“You really think these softies will set me straight in my ways?”
“I love to party… get drunk… get high and such,
so do you really think these fools is gone bother me much?”
“I got the greatest help… that money can buy,
so let’s have it… Stop Me… Let’s see you try!”

At just that moment, when Misery was ready to brawl,
in walked Prayer, and put a hush to it all.
Prayer brought someone… who Misery didn’t suspect,
but it was God, who brought Blessings, and Prosperity next.
Misery said, “That’s It…” and threw her hands in the air,
“Party’s over… go home… this chick ain’t playing fair.
She packs up her things… and leaves in a huff,
didn’t suspect they’d go there… guess they called her bluff.
All the others left… cowering in fear,
and Kharma, a little bruised… pulls up a chair.
Knowing she will not stop until Misery is dead,
but the fight will go on… only in someone else’s head.


By Malik Jones