Poetry 4 The Streets

Afrikan Warrior (remix)

creator, don’t give me the power of a coward wisdom of a fool give me the power of a warrior wisdom of an elder 2 fight for freedom give me the power and courage for when the oppressor sentences me 2 death for my eyes 2 remain open when he swings the sword to die in honor than 2 live a life of shame please help mold me so my struggle will be just cut down and kill all my weaknesses let my vision be the strength for a new humanity death before dishonor my soul stands above mortal man i am a warrior an afrikan warrior who walks among the gods will not lay with the devil i carry the tools of the revolution work, study and a rifle i strive for land the basis of all independence have no time for scandalous niggers who can’t bring about change have no time for the club that can’t bring about change have no time for clown niggers who can’t bring about change i study how 2 take life in order 2 bring forth life i study destructiyon for instruction you see, man has lost his ethics and virtues the only language he understands is 2 take by hand, by knife and gun so i build my mind and body so others will know the only taking will be done by me i realize my road is death my road is victory i stand and look within 2 the creator some elders say ‘the way of the warrior is death” if so, let me die an afrikan warrior.

Mama So Black

Your mama so black  Your mama so black  Your mama so black She’s beautiful  1 Your mama so black She’ll fight the bloods and crips Your mama so black She’ll fight the nypd Your mama so black She’ll laugh  When they read her rights Your mama so black Anyone harm her children  Your mama so black  Your stomach  Never knew hunger Your mama so black U never believed Santa down a chimney  Your mama so black Your pops called her a bitch  she ate it Your mama so black Your woman is black

Silver Bracelets (part 2)

who is the man in your eyes with the gun your creator of pain the reason behind not loving me not wanting 2 be loved you cry at the same time each night call out his name when you’re holding me sister, i understand understand that he is gone and you must let go who is the man in your eyes with the gun do you love him more than me tell me, sister tell me about this man (widow speaking:) see, i remember him more than god he laid his pain on my lap and laughed it was wrapped in my husband’s blood-stained shirt his blood gripped around his body not wanting 2 let go god cries every time i speak my pain i never had a chance 2 hold my fiancé 2 say i love you one last time the gun hugged him, kissed him on his forehead his heart, his stomach, and had an orgy on his body made passionate love and he came blood i never had a chance 2 really get 2 know his strengths 2 learn his faults my memory of him is incomplete all i remember is his savior who used his gun as a cross forced me 2 walk into hell god, have you fallen in love with him yet? has his smile made u smile does he tell you jokes that make you laugh all night are you happy now that you took him from me his children still wait for the sound of his keys for him 2 talk of his pains so they can snatch them and change them into love “when is papa coming home,” they ask and i say, “never” he’s talking 2 god now he has a new home and they cry tears that yell louder than their father’s screams so who is this man in my eyes with the gun? it’s my fiancé’s savior the one who makes his family cry at 10:45 pm every night they say he is only 19 my fiancé was only 25 and i will cry the rest of my life.

Silver Bracelets

silver bracelets lock afrikans killed returned 2 living hell as i walk thru the valley of death i can hear the laughter see the gossip being yelled from open windows ms. so-and-so’s son has fallen fallen from perfection, as they see it their cracker god gave me twenty-five-2-life each day is a blow 2 my soul each day, i forget the purpose of living this is where afrikan screams, yells can be heard as men jerk their dicks waiting for that reminder of loved ones young victims are made into bitches that suck dick and cry at the same time i hear their yells and shiver how many times can a man die? each day is a new death each midnight is when they pronounce me dead Jesus does not hang on my walls i killed him every time i needed someone 2 release my pain on i stabbed him in my mind ‘til jah could not take no more and pulled me away i see her face a loved one i will never see again her letters 2 me are kidnapped and molested by the prison guards by the time i touch them, they are not pure no more your love has died all that remains are words that curse me speak of my son who will never touch me who dies in my mind everyday his tears from his face have disappeared, i wonder why all i can do is cry as my cell mate’s bed squeaks and he moans like a billie holiday record i look 2 the ceiling and see my executioner i see the seconds stand there and smile i try 2 picture in my mind ways i could have changed them and hid them, change time death kicks my dream 2 the ground as the executioner places silver bracelets on my hand seconds laugh so now everyday becomes a struggle every morning i see the same walls i pray for the end of the world so i can escape my death people ask me, “do you feel any pain, any shame for killing him” i say, “you was not there when they trained me 2 be a killer, all you can see is my victim’s pain” society laughs, they blame their crimes on me 2 blame the cracker is a crime they blame me for tears formed in my eyes, they never fall when i hear my victim’s screams for some reason when i pulled the trigger it was meant 2 be i bathed in his blood and looked into his lover’s eyes and saw that i would be remembered more than him i became equal 2 Jah i became equal 2 Jesus i became the one thing his widow could touch her living dream i brought my pain and laid it at her lap when i killed him so now i walk thru living hell and fear no evil when i close my eyes, i see children crying in dark churches mothers dressed in black looking out windows for their loved ones 2 come home fathers at bars cursing my name i open my eyes and see saviors men who will never be forgotten i’m the one Malcolm never touched, Martin never saw, Jesus never had hope for am i a victim or a man who runs thru the street looking for someone 2 blame i don’t know each day becomes darker and darker until i can’t see but hear screams that get louder and louder i finally realize it’s me i’m only 19 19 years old serving twenty-five-2-life.

Tracey Jackson

think it started over a pull of some shit we picked up from the incense shop on 125 as i rubbed your thighs tried 2 feel your wetness as you press breaks accelerated hit the highway north 2 catch the twelve-2-twelve action as your panties got soaked before i closed the hotel doors she’s my nigger my peep in any situation this sister would pull triggers for her man go 2 war for her nigger we got each other’s back like shakur’s roll deep like afrika’s tell punk niggers to move she can create lines with a wink we be our own clique step in rooms walk streets watch eyes be on our shit can have whole conversations on nicks and dimes jamaica in the sands weed fields we got mad herb in our dreams i leave battlefields when i’m in her arms leave clips all that shit be on safety as i hold her hips i can breathe when i’m with my sister who would go 2 war pull triggers for her nigger just needed someone 2 believe in the dream in our dreams i would go all out for you there is not a life time bid i wouldn’t do for you i promise you the world no fuckery ever come home vexed no arguments but when we let the devil into our home we’ll just take mad pulls of the skunk in heaven meditate on our beauty as i rub your nappy hair and reflect on the first touch the first rub the reason we became 1 like souljahs on the battlefield we only got each other, nigger niggers cry that shit they would die for you but i will always live for you live 2 just bite those blunt blunted lips take pulls of your shit finger love you ‘til i soak you and i’m ready 2 go in share love in the struggle feel you in the battle if we separate in the war if i die you die we’ve lived some shit 250,000,000 afrikans died for don’t cry, love i won’t cry, love this world ain’t big enough 2 bury black love our love will bury them grow weed fields as our children lick weed in a bush take mad pulls and reminisce about mommy and daddy souljahs who lived and died for niggers so niggers ain’t gotta die no more but live as afrikans live as one.