The Son of the Streets

From the very beginning

He was a wide eyed child, he saw and he believed in the bigger boys

He wanted to be like them, so every day after school, he set on the stoop

And watched

He watched the guys standing on the corner with their pants sagging

Long white tee shirts and soulja rags just hanging

He watched them jump in and out of the flashy shinny cars

With spinning rims that shined so bright

And he liked the platinum grills that looked like

One thousand kilowatts of light

And as he got older and bolder he wanted more of what he saw

He walked over to the guys standing on the street corners like they owned them

And started conversations, that peeked his interest

And the more they talked, the more he knew he wanted to be down.

Being 15 and having thug out role models

Who were no more than 22 years in age; set the stage

He befriended these young lost boys

And this set his single hard working momma off into a rage.

His grades started slipping, and he starting skipping, class

And before his momma knew it, he stayed home sitting on his narrow black ass

It wasn't long before he started coming up in the game.

By the time he was 19, he was driving a Range, Rover, and the evils

Of street life had indeed taken over.

Him

He had slowly but surely become, a son of the street

He had babies and baby momma's although out the neighborhood

And with each new seed, his plan was to deny

But this didn't stop the sista's from opening and spreading their thighs

And taking the chance of living with the heartache and the pain

That he would one day deliver, because like him they wanted

The fast dollars and the nice ass rides, and the thug out, crunked up brothers

Even if it meant leaving them broken down on the inside

He had become a son of the streets.

By the time this brother was 25,

There was nothing that he hadn't done, and would not do

Made a name for his self on those hard mean streets

And if you crossed him, you were thru

He took pity on no one, all he knew was how to abuse

So it wasn't strange to hear all the screams, the crying and the pleading

From the one of the baby momma's during one of her daily beating

Because she decided, she needed more of his support

And he believed she was f***ing up his plans

So the only way he could solve this shit was with his hands

Across her face, around her neck

And his size 15 shoe in her sides and her back

He was determined to keep her bitch ass in place

And knew for sure that this would do it

Or he'll beat that ass again

He had truly become a son of the streets

And as all things get old, wither and die

So did he at 25

At the hands of one whom, he crossed and didn't expect

To retaliate, the one he kicked, and blacked her face

The one he once threaten, to kill

If she tried to leave, the one he kicked daily and didn't hear her pleads.

He considered her to be weak and sprung

One can only guess what crossed his mind

As she held that gun

The same one he put in her face many times

The same one held to her temples

And watch her cry and beg for her life

The same one that could do much more damage,

Than that knife, she had plan to use

Cause if he lived, she would not

So off went that first shot,

He grab for his chest

Off went that second shot

Through the front of his neck

And off went shot 3,4,5,6

She clicked the gun for 7, 8, 9,

And sat there with tears in her eyes

As she watch him take his last breath

She said a short prayer, and lost all track of time

She lost her freedom and she lost her mind

All because she fall in love with a son of the streets

Mystik©2005