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by Kellz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Crime/Gangster · #1140131
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?????


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