Genies in Hennesey

Hennessy bottles get fondled like genie lamps clinched eyes wish of symbolic fortune.
And it is only portion, of my mind left to sit in loiter, in abandoned lots where only remains of ambitions are left to wether the trials of times torture.
You know what's torture? 
the fact I think I just sold my soul for a pair of ***ing jordan's.
And a gold nuse.
My granny would be ashamed, but the chain was succulent walking through the garden these j's lead me right to the forbidden fruit.
Or am I the forbidden fruit, or am I judas to my own cause or am I just not digging deep enough to grab roots.
I mean if Dr. King and Mr. X could have carved their debates between the scars on the backs of slaves, I was supposed to be what they authored.
Cuz your four fathers aren't my four fathers, 
your amendment rights and my amendment rights are different charters.
Perks get abused like repeat offenses of domestic violence they hush my mind my mouth steals silence.