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Personal Note:

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Poem

If I could teach the 
hood to read a book 
without some slang, 
it wouldn't kill the 
fire but it'd surely 
douse the flame,

that burns within 
the hearts of those 
who're all about the 
game, I haven't 
come to preach but 
teach us all just 
how to change.

If I could teach the 
hood to just get up 
from off its seat, 
we'd have the 
strength to knock 
caucasians right up 
off their feet,

expand our 
children's minds to 
places they don't 
often see, the world 
is more than 
graveyards where 
they lay black 
coffins deep.

If I could take my 
daughter to the park 
to have some fun, 
without the 
constant worry of 
these hoodlums 
sparkin guns,

not carin who gets 
hit cause Heaven 
knows they have no 
aim, to bust off 
indiscriminate these 
people have no 
shame.

If I could teach the 
hood that freedom 
isn't nathan free, a 
debit card is 
needed be prepared 
to pay the fee,

the tough ones talk 
that feces they're 
the first to talk and 
flee, the knowledge 
brings the power so 
the weak come 
walk with me.

I love the hood and 
rep it, t'was the 
hood where I was 
born, and raised 
inside the vision of 
a prison's eye of 
storm,

statistic'lly, 
realistic'lly as I defy 
the norm, and guide 
my hood through 
night to understand 
the prize is dawn.

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