This piece was inspired by a deeply moving movie called The Hate U Give. Special shout out to Marcus of the Father's Group for putting it on at COCC.
3 of us playing ball
3 shots you fall
an instant bullet of hate
3 infant heart breaks
We all know what happens to the snitch
so I keep my lips stitched.
and my fist is clenched
Since high school in the Heights
only graduated to fights,
I took a trek
to Williamson Prep
Where we might dress with the same specs
but when they flex that black slang
they’re met with the cool step
and if I flex with own neck
I was checked like a hood thang
More beef at this party
I don’t need animals killed
but I be crushin’ hard on Khalil
We reminisce about who’s Ron
droppin’ hints.. “yo still got your wands?”
stop playin…
Khalil stop playin and put hands on the dash
He aint playin
Just listen to him Khalil
Khalil please
Khalil
Khalil
The scene burnt in my head
115 sees a gun
so now he brushed-off
dead
Waking up to the up chuck
I never drink, but I’m feelin’ drunk
He said we had time
now I’m on open casket line
people say I gotta get some air-time
and momma, wants to leave all this behind
Last time I kept my mouth shut
This time I’m puttin’ my hands up
I’m the star witness
with richness to kick this
megaphone my truth
so we can all try to fix this
but peaceful protests don’t seem to matter
tear gas cans, blur the which lives matter
King’s feelin’ pride
‘cause my words sent for him
Burns my pop’s shop down
thinking that’s gonna wreck him
Sekani pulls a piece
another infant stressin’
to protect ‘em.
How many have to die,
before we see
that blackness
isn’t a weapon?