A poem describing teens growing up in the hood |
In my hood of many faces In my hood of many places Where innocent faces can be deceitful Where the girls look so good that they can be eatable or eadable Which ever you prefer Where old thugs aint new thugs no more Where everybody fronts like they rich, but we all poor Where its cool to rock throwbacks, fitted caps, JO's and designer clothes galore Where shit aint always the way it appear Where niggaz send slugs, sling drugs.....Ya betta toss that nigga cuz them cops is near Where there's alot of talent, but most of the time it's concealed I guess it never comes up Them boyz just too tough, the field is real Where you can't trust anybody just a handful of niggaz, if that Where if a nigga try to play you, ya gotta rush and get the scat before he get his I know it sounds fucked up, but that's just the way shit is Where we talk greezy to niggaz, straight disrespect Where ya might thank a nigga is gonna go right, but then he fuck around and go left Where we get drunk and slapbox all the night long Where when one nigga start singing, we all just sing along To the song Cuz ya know that man aint gonna steer ya wrong Where we get locked up like it's a fad going out of style Where we sag our pants, vulgarly speak, fornicate, just straight up bug out....Them boyz is wild Where we disrespect our elders and don't listen to our mothers and will lie to anybody, but we keep it real with eachother Where the summers are short, but the winters are long And I know it's supposed to be longer, but extra extra long And it just seems wrong Where lil kidz dread when the street lights come on Because they know it's about that time to run along and go home Where the cops random search and harass us Where hearing gunshots is damn near just as normal as breathing, so when niggaz buss It don't mean much Where if you want to fight a nigga and he got a right hand man and they together, you already know: aint not fairs So you know to bring your man to the fight so you can be prepared To fight in pairs Where older niggaz lecture younger niggaz like they know so much (they do) Where projected bodies speak in agreement even if the pitching heads don't agree just to avoid a fuss (tis true) Where there's always a younger nigga thats gonna look up to you and everything you do He's gonna wanna say me too Where there's always a nigga that's gonna make you laugh and when you argue with him, its impossible to stay mad Where little ghetto kids grow up and become adult ghetto kids Doing adult ghetto bids Where the libraries are damn near empty......but the corners be packed Like a box of Newports with 21 in the pack With niggaz getting bent, slinggin cracks and all that Where little G's grow up and become OG's In my hood of many paces In my hood of many faces Is this the way its supposed to be????? |