Category Archives: Niggas

Menace

To be exact

when it comes to black

no ones predating us

The founders went on conquest

Their mission was enslaving us

Colonies all our people

Livestocking and trading us

Saw power in our skin tone

And made a plan change it up

Saw God in all our faces

still chose to violate us

saw the beauty n our women

Then decided they should rape her

See us suffering in the streets

They use guns instead of tazors

Then sentence us to the jail

With a bunch of loaded cases

Now his comissary low as fuck

His baby mom ain’t showing up

His starving barely holding up

He smiling cus he going nuts

His son just started high school

Can’t get him on the phone much

His step dad gotta crazy mouth

So youngin fighting grown ups

He see his dad and let him know

his plan to hit the streets

Ain’t bout to ask his mom

or her new man to buy his sneaks

And Dad knows that once a man decides

he can’t be stopped

That nothing can derailed em

so he put him on the block

He tell him if gets caught

to keep his mouth on lock

And if they try to run up

Give em something from this glock

Ain’t learn shit from his dad

Except how a Demon

Society looking at him

like another curse seamen

On instagram they snitchin

Whole world no he wanted

And his mother going through it

Cus this ain’t life she wanted

She join a church

get close to god

Her head stay in a bible

He hiding what he feel in side

Too focused on survival

Plus he got his girl pregnant

Every night his thoughts spiral

Just another Black male

who got caught up in the cycle

What’s reality?

I believe that we are all afraid and because we are afraid we create personalities as defense mechanism against this world which seems so unpredictable at times.

We never know what will or won’t happen and it causes us to create super hero’s in our minds; who’s jobs are to protect of from the chaos.

In effect, these super hero’s become personalities that we take on often take on to fight anyone or anything perceived to threaten our so called existence.

If this is true, if we can create various personalities based on our fears and perceptions of the world; how can we really say that who we claim to be or what we claim to see is real?

The Goat

Dear Self,

Lately I feel like it’s just me and you

Because no one understand the changes I’m going through

In my mind, if 1 wins, nobody can lose

So why do I feel so uncomfortable expressing good news?

Is it my fault that they got complacent?

While I built myself and reconstructing my foundation

I want it to be love but it feels like they hatin

Like they want me to fall and won’t mind waiting

Maybe they got used to me being broke

Now I be flexing like I’m selling dope

But you know something that they’ll never know

Like how even when it got dark I never lost hope

And even when it rain didn’t stop I saw over the rainbow

So I deserve the world and everything in it

And when I reach the top I’ll have you as my witness

Memoirs: The “Hit em up” theory

What if Jesus didn’t rise on the third day and forgive those who had portrayed him?

What if came back in all black with guns ready to spray em?

What if he rose from the dead in his hospital bed?

And decided that whoever set him up was dead

Plus everyone at the last supper had to died too

he aint know who to trust when he rose from that tomb

So he called his henchmen, Gabriel was in the front

horsemen treading, equipped with the pumps

No Arc this time because everybody had to go

Since when he offered to save them they told him no

What if he smiled in delight as they were slowly devoured by thier own demons?

All because they chose to take his kindness for weakness

And when his father called to invoke a change of spirit

He turned off his phone because he wasn’t tryna hear it

Sunrise’s At The Pier: Euphoric 

As I stood in the doorway, eyes piercing through the dark of the night, obsessing over satins unique ability to caress every curve and angle of her frame.
I received an impulse to approach my prey. So smitten I don’t recall how I traveled the distance. Maybe I glided, maybe my wings flew me towards my dream.

Losing control of my bodily functions-it was if my heart took control and didn’t require permission from my brain anymore-while she lay still on her back like a goddess waiting to be taken by her fierce gladiator.

My fingers began to caress the triangular parts of her body and steadily moved to the creasing parts of her spine, sliding towards the cushions of her backbone.

Between her thighs I feel the steam from her ocean shooting out like a rapid fire; enough to invoke a mist.

My palms soon seek refuge in her well groomed garden. My brain begins to function slightly but only enough for me to imagine the pleasures my extension may feel might I dare expose it to her narrow river.
This would not be the first time I’d taken a dip in these warm waters -where I’d been many times smalls distances between life and death-and it wouldn’t be the last.

while on this expedition toward passion I always retrieve myself moments before my demise. Within each step I take towards an inevitable death I feel I become more alive.

I have no control of myself yet full control of her, this is my final fantasy, this euphoria.

Memoirs: Reciprocity 

I often read sayings/statements which discuss how ” there is always someone in the world willing to kiss/worship the ground we walk on” and I believe this is true; but I also believe that the people we meet in this life are a reflection of where we are in our human development. If this is true then it would mean that in order to receive such treatment one must be willing/able to reciprocate.

On the other hand, I also believe that someone who genuinely loved you would never allow you stoop so low as to worship them but would instead be too concerned with raising you up to your rightful state of being, your higherself, your highness.

This of course just my humbled opinion so don’t be afraid to tell me what you think.

Memoirs: Evolution

Here on earth we all wear a disguise
We run from the truth and embrace common lies

We live in fear and hide in crowds

Who say individual thought is not allowed

We choose a God and praise his name

We seek attention and live in vain

The idea of love is just that, an idea

And for things to be appreciated they must first disappear

We travel through life at a rapid speed

While our childhoods are trampled on by our stampede

Some will lose and none will win

All will get to try again

Memoirs: Entitled

One night I saw God on the corner of Broad and Olney

So I asked him:

Nigga where you been?

Why I ain’t got no wife yet?

Why you keep killing all of my friends?

Why I ain’t rich?

Where the fuck is Benz?

And why every time I turn around something wrong again?

But you want me to pray to you at night?

Why you out here chilling and not making shit right?

*He exhaled his blunt and leaned back on his SS impala and said:*

Why my blessings always gotta come in dollars?

I gave knowledge youngin, that shit has power!

You think I care that you’re upset cause I smoked your boys?

I like when there’s  peace and they was making too much noise

And you pushin up on me like you wanna join them

Better get your punk ass up off my corner

I should pistol whip your punk ass right now

For coming at me like im a clown

I’m letting you live this one last time

But if I see you again that ass is mine

No time to be living in pain or sorrow

cause from now on your time is borrowed

I could’ve killed your lil ass when you was ten

But here I am giving  you life again

So when you wake up in the morning, you better thank me

Cause you got troubles but you blessed mainly

Just don’t  ever forget who that is I be

And don’t ever forget that I’m your OG

 

Statistic 

I was in the alley watching niggas serve the fiends 
Listening to Papi sell the hood niggas dreams 
I was in an Audi by the age of 17

Couldn’t go to sleep I had smokers in my dreams 

Tried to keep the peace but I would smoke you for my cream

I just had to have it

Light skin bitch kept saying I was average 

Didn’t want to fail, didn’t want to live bummy

Late night kitchen table counting up the money 

Everything was blurry my whole life looked fuzzy 

All I really wanted was for somebody to love me 

Moving too fast now my room look like a cubby,

Eating chi’s chi’s chips cutttin up my tummy 

1 year down 15 years coming 

All this time left and ain’t no runnin 

It’s 1 million kinds a way to eat

But the hood got me thinking the only way is the streets 

So when I get home Ima trap some more 

and when I get smoked they spray paint me on the corner store 

My kids won’t have a father and their mother will be spiteful

Because she knows that they’re  doomed to continue the cycle