A Gangsta’s life.


Image via Wikipedia

I was born in the streets so I consider myself married to the game,
once I entered knowledge and understanding I carried to game,
switched up the dress code so I blended with the streets,
directions for perfection, I send it with the streets,
this thing we call game, I bleed for it,
its like oxgen to me,I need for it,
Some gangsta’s make love in the streets,
but me? I make love to the streets,
I keep a grip on them streets like a nice set of thighs,
stare at the game like a set of the prettiest eyes,
Real gangsta’s would rather divorce they wife before they leave the game,
they would lie to that woman before they decieve the game,
The reason gangsta’s feel like they need the game?
Because if his woman ever left him there will always be the game!!

2
Liked it
Comments (3)
  • Darla Cooke on May 17, 2009

    Very interesting poem.

  • David Hudson on May 17, 2009

    That’s a very good poem. Even though that’s not my style and not my usual way of thinking, I can sympathize with that train of thought.

  • payge on May 17, 2009

    I grew up and raised kids in the ghetto…seen alot of this happen to know its true.One summer me and the kids got stuck living in between 2 rival gangs,what an experience.Was so glad when both moved…but an interesting piece to read.

Leave a Comment

Hi there!

Hello! Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!

Find the Spot

Loading