It’s on these sweet Miami nights these vices come out,
Moving fluorescent lights, disco deco furniture,
Guarded gates stacked with Arab palms,
Add in the subtle smell of the ocean breeze,
The soft sounds of the boats passing and the noises that make time pass on these downtown streets.
They say Miami is an escape,
A dream,
A fake place to find what’s real and a sick feeling to find what’s true.
Deep within its heart is the white gold everyone’s trying to discover,
Built in the backdrop of posh 50 story buildings,
Overly priced inflated values,
Unauthentic authentic hopes,
In this faithful faithless vague reality aspirations hitting neon beams and sinful escapades.
This is for pushers,
The drug dealers,
The players, the pimps,
This is for the Soul Models who drink out dem gold bottles that never seem to quit.
This is for the victims of welfare who living in hell here,
While the ultra rich burn paper bills enjoying firework moments on rainy days – ACE OF SPADES.
Jesus’s free will in the lap of luxury,
Rails pinned against mirror countertops,
Snow entrenched in white sands,
“Who wants to fuck with Hollywood Cole?” — I did.
And there’s a place next to me on this piece of cardboard where I can tell you stories of yesterday,
Saturated by the humidity, and torn in half from my nightly battles,
I find peace in these streets,
Determined to remain unknown when the people I love try to find me.
Have you had your break today?
Pocketed pennies on busy street corners?
Handled dollars en los calles?
Found your fix in back alley junkie breakdowns with a side of pork n beans to match?
Staying south for the winter in a world & a city that’s too afraid open it’s eyes.
And there’s a place right next to me on this piece of cardboard, where I can show you how I made it here.
Built in this city of excess, fancy boats, quick women, and fast cars.
Never blink or you might miss it,
Never sleep or you’ll never see it,
From the boat docks stopped deadlocked five steps away from being a free man.
Tipped off by the ones I thought I knew the best,
Left as bait for a bigger fish.
It’s a beautiful sunset in the heavens west of the everglades,
Not a cloud in the sky or drop of rain to hit the blue tarp that keeps me dry.
Tomorrow’s a new day, I better find a new place to hide.
Writer: Ditto Ramirez
Photography: I Killed Your Army
