Hustlers Life Part 1
Moms wondering when her son will come home
She don’t realize he now belong to the road
Chose his own destiny, a hustler’s life
Married the game, she’s a demanding young wife
He’s lost sight
Throat tight
No longer can tell what’s wrong from what’s right
Heart now froze
No one allowed close
He shows no signs of remorse
On the outside, he’s young but inside he’s grown old
His soul has gone cold
Just like his daddy before him
Every night spent crack scorin
For the junkies out whorin
Sirens goin neighbours phonin
Outside rain and thunder stormin
Pitbulls will tear you up in a moment
Feds knocking at the door and
Heart racing paper chasing
Banana backwoods in rotation
Using his pain as motivation
To reach the desired destination
This heavenly location
Of the highest mental elevation
Knows all he’s got in this world is himself
You’ll never catch him even asking for help
The dreams he once made now sit stored on a shelf
Ducking the doctors cuz he’s neglected his health
His obssession with wealth
Is the only love he’s felt
He’ll sleep once he’s dead
Justifies it in his head
Speaking of sleep, when’s the last time he had his own bed?
Or the lights behind him weren’t flashing blue, white, and red?
All he feels is dread, belly stays underfed
This lonely life he’s chosen to tread
The persistent intention of securing his bread
The predictability of it all poses a threat
He’s got himself now ball and chained to a debt
Daily gambles on his freedom so he drinks to forget
All night praying for peace to be sent
Maybe if God showed Himself he’d repent
How many hours have really been spent,
Replaying his choices,
to catch the exact moment,
Where it all went to Hell.
The Devil disguises Himself so well
Remember that Satan is just an angel that fell
His mind become a max security cell
A prisoner a slave, no time to rebel
Before he can even catch a moment for himself
Fiends are ringing his line, time to hustle and sell
So it’s back on the shelf for you, My Dreams
Maybe I can visit you one more time before I leave
No it’s too late, he’s already behind
His boys always shaming him and knocking his grind
“Why you wasting time sleeping?”
“You’re still not on roads?”
“If you were really that hungry, you’d have been trapping all weekend”
No time for emotion so he quick mixes his favorite potion
Sucks it back with sweet devotion
Okay, maybe just one more portion
“Time to go thru the motions”
Poker face to mask it all. A hustlers life of extortion.
Copyright © Lady Of Sorrows | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment