by Daniel Ortiz
Down on the Bonnie Brae block
Where kids would outline the bodies with white chalk
Sitting on the curb with my friends just having a talk
Eating hot Cheetos and spicy lollipops
Seeing the OGs pass by with the G walk
Or rolling down Hoover with the hydraulic shocks
Bumbling music and drinking nonstop
With the trunk full of the white stock.
Growing up I wanted the power to have the hood in my hand
And say when to close the lock
Be known as the hood’s own John Locke
At the age of 12 when I backed up 18 collecting the taxes,
Going door by door and starting to knock
While the homies behind the gate waiting with the 12-gauge shotgun
Had to have the 3 gs by 6 o’clock
With my boy Divix with the extended glock
Calling the OGs hoping they pick up
Before an enemy pulls up
Cause with the 18 jersey all blued up
Back in the 2010s when few really remained
Lord please have mercy on me
I’m looking for a new journey
I don’t wanna live the rest of my life dirty
And I don’t wanna go thirsty
Nowadays the new recruits take this life as game
Wearing skinny jeans and talking hard
But when approached don’t rep what they claim
Giving my hood a bad name
Never pull out a whip banging on an enemy while having the gun to their head
Or leaving their car burning in flames
While the FBI spy taking a thousand pictures in one frame
Even tho I ain’t active to this life no more, I will forever remain
Many know of my loyalty to the hood, love is all I ever gave
The ogs know of the respect I’ve earned
Cause in the hood there’s a point of no return
Robbing people and leaving them with cigarette burns
This life I had to engage and learn
And my family was always concerned
Rolling in a Dodge Dynasty with 3 hub caps
With the Hoover tiny locos with guns on our laps
At a young age smoking, letting time pass
All of us never had a dad
Or learned to be a man
Cause we were raised by single mothers
Or our older brothers doing life
Lord please have mercy on me
I’m looking for a new journey
I don’t wanna live the rest of my life dirty
And I don’t wanna go thirsty
I hate to think this way but it’s what me and Divix talk about when he comes to kick it
My living room gets chilly when he enters for a visit
I ask how is it on the other side, is it better than prison?
I hate that I can’t see you.
We did all this to have money for that extra KFC biscuit
Cars, women, cars in our vision
I cry and smoke and while he listens
While I express the real, not like the television
I tell him I rap and Ima get our names out there, it’s my mission
Cause he’s my brother not from blood or religion
I do my best to keep on my groove in any of the 4 weather conditions
This isn’t for the hood but I’m making a move for me, it’s my final decision
I’m not in the healthiest position
I’m rapping cause there’s too many wack competition
I just write of shit I’ve been thru so others can feel and do better for a well payed commission
And Ima get my music out there regardless of the industry’s permission
All this built-in anger got me driven
Lord please have mercy on me I’m looking for a new journey
I don’t wanna live the rest of my life dirty
And I don’t wanna go thirsty
My real pain I keep it hidden
These words are the door to a better world or admission
Cause from 10 to 16 top ramen soup and drugs been my only nutrition
Every move and word is made with precision
Cause any false move throws you down to the bottom of the food chain like a rotten chicken
Cause all the gangster life was a lie
I watched my boy convulse till he died I
cried till I went blind
Just look into my eyes
I’m real despite what anyone tries to apply
I went from water guns to a chrome trey 57 revolver
Turning 1 into 2, all I wanted was the dollars
If there was a problem my gun was known as a problem solver
I had little stacks but wanted to make them larger
Now that I write I’m planting more rhymes than a farmer
Moving thru pages is a scandal
Like creeping through the night with a candle
But I went from a gangster to a poetic vandal
Aka a published book, Arthur, but you won’t find me at Disney channel
I do it not for my father but my sister, mother, and my brother who has departed
These words Ima have to conquer
And my pen’s a weapon
And my mind is armor.
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Photo Credit: Pixabay