My motto was why stop?, all the guys that dropped could of stopped, they didn’t, so I’m not, fuck it come kill me, I was rebelling, why? Because inside i was hurting.
So many died, I didn’t want the world to think I was weak alone, don’t ever disrespect my gangster, I had to much pride.
Inf sorry to hear what happened to your boy I hope he rest in peace, that same dude walks away burst out in laughter, they really didn’t care for my deceased.
My mind played tricks on me.
I was the youngest, how does time pass and I become the oldest?
I’m even older than my dad, he stopped aging at 35, I’m five years older than him when he died.
I felt confined without being locked up, that was my state of mind.
” I don’t know anything else but the hustle”, that was mine and many others trouble.
No outlets, mind tricks, but if given packs we know how to bubble them in the projects.
No options, couldn’t be optimistic, unless we talked about death and which way the reaper will pay us a visit.
I mastered the craft of people that don’t last and it scared me, its so hard to evade the three felony law, I’m glad that wasn’t in effect while I was growing up as an eighties baby, because instead of a poem this would be a letter written from me, while serving life in some penitentiary. I got a second chance. I won’t regress, all my life I had less, there’s only room to advance.
I always asked myself, al what are you gonna be after this, in had no answer, I was used to selling dimes and nickels, bustn caps or swinging knuckles, the answer to that question for years stood in limbo.
I heard the voices, just wasn’t listening, my third eye was giving visions, I paid them no mind, the pain of poverty wasn’t letting me see in clarity, I was caught up pitching in for the pushers charity, i was a statistic like most of us ghetto minorities, who were the majority of the hustlers making a living in housing lobbies.
I want to say sorry to the world! My mind played tricks on me, I’ve should of got reincarnated sooner to save the crack baby boomers, its hard to let go when that life consumes ya, mind tricks, brain comesutra left us in awkward positions
Infinite the Poet 2012
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