STREETHOOD

Streethood

Jungle lived and saints row
Forest grew weed and weed grew low
Trees are monk; monks aren't tree
A world scarce of freedom key

Top heads are no saints
And saints are not top heads
Street so legit and house so dull
At ringing lights and noises; dudes ball

Those up and flat chests hustle mean
Sagged, belted niggas and niggies; human being
Food or no food; fellas still good in the hood
Another state for survival your sainthood

Smokes or no drinks; grounds balance
Good G or Stunt G; survives by chance
Some weary low minds but creatively greater
Yet, them-havens whistles heaven unto them-haters.

©AUTHOR KELLY JUUZ
(A salient prolific author...)
28/05/2017
11:28pm