Hood Sh!t

Things that could happen anywhere but are magnified in the ghetto....

Violence, murder, misery and people getting robbed,
a big a*s celebration when our people get a job,
where folks below the line of poverty have good intent,
but somehow wind up sidetracked; all caught up in hoodish s**t.

The liquor stores and chicken spots are not that hard to find,
the ladder of success is smeared with grease; it’s hard to climb,
from out the concrete forest; ev’ryday the jungle’s hot,
the young’ns just don’t get it til they’re somewhere slumped from shots,

that strike the head and torso but there’re angles in the game,
like getting hit with bullets cause a banger has no aim,
the “wrong place-wrong time” adage aint an issue anymore,
cause slugs’ll fly through windows and will get through any door,

or wall and outer surface; understand we’re just not safe,
it’s not like you can tell a slug to get from out your face,
I love the hood and rep it but the s**t has got to cease,
until the ghetto’s a*s is wiped we'll have no shot at peace.

Please Believe....

©2013
The Cunning Linguist

Author's Note

This piece was written when alot of negative (and rightly so) press was being showered on Newark, NJ. I wanted to show my fellow inner cityers how the world saw us.