Untitled

By TG

Why must I fade away
Why must I rest today
Why must there be a price to pay
Why must I kneel to pray

I find my justice on the street
From your wallets come my meat
Abandoned buildings where I sleep
Paper boxes give me heat

Do you see me with your eyes
Even though you pass me by
Humiliation tries to hide
Embarrass figures of our lives

When you see me you will speak
When I ask for change to eat
A lonely figure in cold
Outcast member from the fold
Hold my shame out with my hand
Fractured woman broken man

Her Name Is Streets

By AG

Why the old cry when the young die?
And when the young die
A newborn opens their eyes for the first time

Crime is programmed
To the mind of the young boy who is searching for love and shelter
Streets, she’s always the quickest helper

What you need money, drugs, violence?
Stop being silent
I love you, young boy

Streets whispers, “I’ve made people rich
I’ve made people poor
I’m that love you can’t ignore

Also I have 3 best friends named
Prison, Overdose, and Death
I’m going to be here for you when no one’s left

I’m Streets, the woman who softly caresses your chest
I grow no flowers, I’m concrete
A hard downfall for whoever falls on me
In case you don’t know my name is Streets.”

Trapped

By AD

Trapped in this cage,
Am I justified to feel rage?
or should I use this experience as fuel to ignite a blaze,
a scorching inferno burning, turning all the hate to ashes,
where justice applies to all, not just those in the lower classes,
But is it really Justice, where the symbol they use is blind?
The endless cycle of poverty,
Consumerism used as a tool to enslave my mind.
Poverty, just like robbery, it should be labeled as a crime.
Resources stripped from our communities, it strengthens yours,
while it weakens mine. Now you wonder why I’m mad.
Violent tendencies to express my anger, those who should protect me.
I run because in them I sense danger.
I’m still trapped in this cage, but no, it’s not of the physical kind.
It’s your multifaceted master plan – tools you use to enslave my mind.

Once Upon A Time

By GL

Once upon a time . . .
I lived my life, as though any day could of been my last.
At the tender age of 15, that was how I was living.
THUG LIFE wasn’t just a cool slogan for me
It was a religion.

Amen . . . .
A man . . . manifested a plan
To cultivate the minds and land of his people
THE PEOPLE
We shall overcome . . . some day
But for now, we can forget about being treated socially equal
Maybe in 30 yrs or so . . . in a 100 yrs or mo’
What you reap you sow . . . When I think I GROW
When I think I GLOW . . . When one think, it SHOWS
Think about it . . .
Scratch your head and blink about it
Dropped some jewelry, the impact knocked a link up out it

Once upon a time . . .
I was of a different mind
On the block all the time – committing different crimes
I grew up poor . . . refrigerator on E, my bed was the floor
Ventured down a different path
Opened a different door
Emotions became a wrath
The block became my whore
Money became my b****
My b**** became my god
And GOD became a myth . . .

My salvation, was inside a spliff
The burning bush was burning
My world was turning, upside down
A child hood was lost – a light was found
Society is out of bounds, to the undesirables
Kids wanting to be what they see on cable
Damn near every household possess a Cain and Abel
Damn near every parent in my hood was unstable
A half full 40oz in the fridge, a bag of red hot chips on the table
Crack pipes stashed in the medicine cabinets
It’s easy for the youth to gravitate, to the GHETTO FABULOUS
Gangsters, killers and hustlers
Foreign whips, and customers
Fly girls lust for us
Feeling like you on top of the world
But all along, you’re on top of nothing
At least, you’re on top of something
Even if it’s on top of nothing

Once upon a time . . . I was of a different mind
My 3rd eye was blind to the symbols and signs
Now I can see CLEARLY

If I Knew Then…

By DJ

If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have been involved in a life of crime. The fast money I made when I was a teen wound up being very, very slow money at the end, because the wages you make in jail are slave wages.  Read More