Monday, May 3, 2010

everything remains the same for clockers with glockers

I walk with a ditty bop
My soul is filled with hip hop
My jeans hang below my ass crack
I love to listen to rap
talk about firing a gat
I dream about being gangster
I want to live
and die gangster
I don't run with a crew cause I can hold my own
My rep will be shown
I long to hold a fat stash of cash
lamping on that corner trying to get that cheddar
More money can make my life better
I grew up in the streets with lots of welfare cheats while
I only had welfare to eat
Now my cheddar goes to buy clothes
ain't nothing cheap to wear
My gear is the latest style of the year
Got rings of bling I stay blowing blunt rings
My bullets sting
I’ll probably end up in sing sing
See death in the eyes of my pupils
I have no scruples
Lawless and heartless
2-diamond earring studded
born with a gun in my waistband
grown up now I’m the man
dark ghetto nights don't faze me
cause I walk with a ditty bop
my life is filled with gun shots
I’m down with the illegal
My rage is lethal
Love getting into fights when I get mad tight
Jumping niggas on the regular
Top-notch competitor
I got long braids
my girl keeps my doo laced up
Life is rough but I handle my business
My stress escalates till I steam and evaporate
my enemies await a terrible fate
Their doom or mine is built on hate
I walk with an original gait
So I got my ditty bop and my black facemask
rolling up on suckers is completing my task
I'll be keepin’ it real to my last gasp

1 comment:

  1. The flow of the poem is discordant, but I think it emulates the feel or mood you are trying to express in the "hardcore" life of a gangster.


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