An explanation:
Basically, this is a rhyme I wrote when I was about 19, still fucking up, still being a douche, and it's about wanting a second chance. It's also a commentary about how rap is poetry and how the public needs to realise that, which makes it suitable in my eyes for the site.

I treat my life like poetry, it's all in verses/
Seperated by breathers, we call them choruses/
My rhymes, though, they act just like curses/
Don't know I'm *NASTY* until you end up in the nurse's/
I got your perscription, it's called retirement/
Don't take that shit? Then you end up like cement/
I lay you out, and then roll right over you/
If you still talking, I drill until I've gone through/
The writing's done, I make sure it's all right/
Too late, though, can't correct to make it a'ight/
It's been done, the scene has been acted out/
Don't like it? Don't come to me and cry and pout/
Yo, I treat this like the first, assuming I got another/
I love my friends and treat them all like brothers/
If I didn't? Life wouldn't be the same/
Cause I'd have a bullet through my fucking brain!

Chorus (repeat X2):
Yo, I treat this like the first life,
Cause I want to have that second life

Continuing the story, wait, shit, I started one?/
Fuck, they already asked, they do it for fun/
Spite me? I'd rather you try and bite me/
Turn your head around and then still see if you like me!/
Nah, but seriously, I'm trying to not sin/
Wouldn't hurt my homies, especially kith & kin/
Just please let me work so I don't have to stay thin/
Let me pay the bills so I can buy that bottle of gin/
Sure, I don't drink, but one day I will/
Live the life I did, and your flask wouldn't stay fill/
If you were a lesser man, you'd jump out a window sill/
If you seen what I've seen, neither would your mouth stay still!/
So now I'm speaking a gospel, spitting faster than Billy Crystal/
Telling stories of how in younger days I'd be dead without the pistol/
I should become a buddhist, so I can try over/
Respawn in a nice place, maybe like Dover!

Chorus (repeat X2):
Yo, I treat this like the first life,
Cause I want to have that second life

A lot of people out there think that rap isn't poetry/
Fuck them, their families, and their homies!/
In school I freestyled for the writing homework/
But I didn't rap about things like champagne and bottle cork/
Nah, man, I was 14 years old/
My toungue flowed fast, while others grew mold/
I was a poet loreat of generation now/
Hear me back then, and your ears say "Wow"/
Yet, my teacher said no, said rap wasn't writing/
Said Public Enemy isn't suitable for citing/
Ended up dropping, started constantly fighting/
Ended up smoking, crack cigarettes I was lighting/
So I'm asking that this first life can proceed that fucking second life/
End me quick, preferably by gun or knife/
When I try again, the lord will make me a tree/
Live out my dream, and forever let my roots grow free!

Chorus (repeat X2):
Yo, I treat this like the first life,
Cause I want to have that second life