'Twas Christmas Eve Remix

For my english class in December, we had to translate ''Twas the Night Before Christmas' into modern language. I took it to the extreme and made it VERY modern. I hope you like my West Side Holiday Tale.

 

'Twas Christmas Eve Remix

 

‘Twas Christmas Eve, and down in the hood

Not a gangsta was stirrin’, cause the cops mood ain’t good;

Stockings were hung by fire bins to dry,

And the hobos weren't lookin’ nobody in the eyes;

 

 

The kids were huddled in an ol’ factory store,

While their pops were armed and standin’ guard by the door;

And mamma in her curlers, and I in my cap,

Had just settled our selves for a long, restless nap,

 

 

When out on the street there arose a big bang!

I jumped out of bed to see if it was a gang.

Away to the door I flew like a flash,

Brought my eye to the peephole and opened the catch.

 

 

The flickerin’ lights on top the concrete

Made it hard to see if a gangsta I’d meet,

When, what to my wary eyes should behold,

But a punk and his homies all decked out in gold,

 

 

With bling, and rings, and a run fast and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be Rich Rick.

Faster then bullets his posse they came

While cops whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

 

 

‘Stop Rich! Stop Nancy! Stop Stan and Chards!

Come cops! Come cruisers! Come sheriffs and guards!

To top security! To cell number one!

Now get them, cops! Get them, every single one!’

 

 

As a herd of deer before hunters they run,

When they meet with an obstacle, take out a gun;

So down to the hideout the posse they ran,

With a bag full of loot, and Bill Gates (The Money Man).

 

 

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The stomping and scuffing of each big foot.

As I ducked in my head, and was turnin’ around,

Down the air vent Rich Rick came with a bound,

 

 

He was dressed all in fur, he looked like a king

And his clothes were all covered with jewels and bling.

A bundle of money he had flung on his back

And he looked like a robber, just opening his pack.

 

 

His diamonds how they sparkled! His Franklins how merry!

His bling was blinding! His rubies like cherries!

His big mouth was drawn up in a huge grin,

The chains ‘round his neck dropped down to his shins;

 

 

The cap of his Coke he held tight in his teeth

And the carbonation encircled his mouth like a wreath;

He had a broad face and big round muscles

That were as hard as steel (like my mom’s homemade truffles).

 

 

He was rough and gruff, a right downtown man,

And I stiffened when I saw him (I thought I was in the can);

A finger to his lips and a shake of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

 

 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

Filled the stockings with cash; and then turned with a jerk,

Laying his finger aside of his mind,

And giving a nod, up the air vent he climbed;

 

 

He sprang to his Harley, to his posse gave a yell,

And away they all ran to several sirens’ bells

But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight…

“Wealthy Christmas to the hood, and to all a rich night!”

Author's Note

Please take note that the grammatical errors are purposeful and intended to make this poem seem 'rough and tough'.