poem to the eastside crip chillin with his homies at the bellis fair mall gap


Dec 27, 2003 (Updated Aug 25, 2005)


The Bottom Line A poem to a young man wasting his life

I hope you never see
the darkness of red
coming from a body when it's shot

I hope you never see
the graves of people
in which time and the world forgot.

I hope you never
experience a robbery
and see how it violates your soul.

I hope you never
call the police
and have them never show.

I hope you never
waste the privilidge
that god has given you.

I hope you never
blame the whiteman
for something he didnt do.

I hope you someday understand
that your ancestors
didn't fight and die to see.

you wielding a gun
and doing some stupid sh!t
you saw on BET.

I hope someday you understand
the gangsta's paradise
you know and love so well,

is nothing short
of the sort
which was my living hell.

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Member: Robert Lashley
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