Life is all about the hustle hustle popo on the corner block peeping everybody just go stop the bustle. Corner block struggles dying daily every time you make a deal of the bagged emotions everyday is the same.On the block for 6 month still having a a few white men to compliment my salary recognizing only a few names,know a lot of faces.This game,is it that or the life we choose to make. give and take,  bake and shake birds,  herbs as a boss, slave to the dream of fame but it feels good putting money on your mothers door step. feels like bringing new to life after a rain,but it’s a shame to me, thanks mr.president for not labeling an asian on the green gold with my name, paying no taxes no real job no one to claim, so it must be  shame on me,when is my life going to change

Trading dreams with a feine for them to inhale but is that what they need from me or deserve I feel a lot but im keeping thoughts  of that reserved, guilty innocence, money hungry pervert solitary mind on the block with one thing on my mind. keeping business to my self being the best as I can be as an introvert, a head nod as I collect to show my extroverted self, quiet saying little and that’s the code of the bread hungry introverted pervert, “you straight” being my only lines and that’s a hustlers key to survival its daily activity as a routine on arrival

my day begins when I wake in the dawn ,a girl’s naked body next to me from starving my heart so sleep with her like I was porning,to keep my quilty innocence from mourning,first to come on the block first to serve desires of feeding myself in the morning,so the hustles starts fresh when I close my eyes at dusk but it doesn’t end there, desires and dreams to survive is not a bad thing!! a matter of fact I do this just to put flowers on my dead sisters grave that’s why do all these DINGS(her name)

To in a dead in this cycle of lyf and death,feels like I’ve stopped instead of circulate,360? Nah 12 tics forward then 12 steps back where do I stand in this lyf,where do I begin, nowhere!! Guilty innocence will only make you or destroy you,young hustlers dreams to make in the game. its life !!!although it may seem like at times its all pain and strife. saying a lot by say little I sell dreams,rocks,and crack commersery mix with books as I go to school in my back pack thoughts of my guilty innocence as I back track,to where I came from in asia in a little family built shack,the American dream I don’t lack,and that’s that, green card hidden in my nap sack. whenever I feel like I want to go home for feed back