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My people still packing pistols and pitchin



Project hallways still getting pissed in



Prison are still packed



People are still snitching



You still %#&@$!ed if you black



Fathers are still missing



Sisters still single mothers



Last seen lovers



Under covers



Locked by undercovers



Or in the morgue



Under covers



Brothers still killing brothers



We still the victim



Set up by society



Trapped by the system



Sitting in cells



Sick cause we ripped Tim



Still can get slain



For a watch or a chain



We still in pain



Still hopping the train



Still copping cocaine



Still copping a plea



Still defended



By that court appointed attorney



That said to that



We still in slavery



And mentally lack



The proper knowledge



To become



What we was meant to be



Still easily we



Forget how good is to be free



Risk it all for a mill



Somalia they d risk it all for a meal



Still day after day



Still guilty till proven innocent



Whities still mad at OJ



Cops can still kill a black man



And get away



We still most incarcerated



Murdered feared and hated



Blinded to thinking cause



one of us made it



all of us gain



it`s like



getting one day of sunshine



for a whole week of rain



%#&@$! aint change









things I like to do:write poetry, rymes whatever I`m think`n in whatever way it comes out,draw,party get drunk have sex and get head, head, and more head



things I hate: a chick that dresses fly whit bummy kids

a hairy coochie (I don`t eat no fur burgers)

a chick that holds me back during sex whit her hands on my stomachgiving me a scared f#*k

a lazy chick

a dirty chick

a chick that a rock a $500 dr