Friday, August 12, 2011

What's beef

Not my best work, but listening to big papa puts me in a venting mood~

You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve been through,
Even if I give it to you straight uncut, you’ll still think critical,
You’ll still think I’m making it up,
You’ll still think I never sold drugs,
You still can’t picture such a pretty face pulling a gun on a junkie,
You still won’t understand what it felt like to have nothing,
I could tell you about the first time I stole my brother’s nine milli,
Because my ex best friend was saying that she was going to kill me,
I could show you my three favorite knives and tell you where they still are,
One in my purse, one under my pillow, and one in my car,
I stole a machete once from walmart that I had to throw away,
It got blood on it, swinging wide to keep five guys at bay,
I should tell you how much I hate all the drama, for real, not fake,
Cuz they just can't relate.  They don't even know what’s beef,
Beef is when a gang runs up into your house but you were already waiting in the street,
Beef is when you drive over the lawn and smash your car into the side of their jeep,
Beef is when you move out before you’re eighteen because you don’t want your life to affect your family,
Beef is pulling a trigger just to make a point,
Beef is punks trying to snatch your figures while you were passing them the joint,
Beef is something that you don’t want but refuse to run away from,
Beef aint some dumbshit snotty bitches making fun of where you got your hair done,
I don’t miss it, but sometime I wish that I could go back,
Go back to not giving a fuck and cooking up some crack,
Go back to choking bitches out in public,
Go back to lighting houses on fire, to show you that I’m not somebody you fuck with,
Go back to stealing cars out of the mall parking lot,
Before they even got reported, I’d be dropping them off at the chop shop,
I don’t mention it because I know everybody’s got their problems,
But if these bitches keep on pushing me, I swear to god I’ll rob them,
I swear to god I’ll do it,
I swear to god I’ll prove it,
I swear to god I’m not the one to screw with,
Because believe it or not, I’ve still got a glock that I’ve buried in the ground and covered up with a rock,
So believe what you want because I don’t like to flaunt the fact that I’ve seen too many homies get shot,
You’ll believe what you will, but believe I will kill on a deal for a meal,
I may seem like I’m well adjusted,
I may seem like I can be trusted,
Trust me, I can come off as smart, pretty, polite,
But get buck with me and you’ll see how I fight,
I am not nice,
It’s all an act,
I’m cold as ice,
My eyes are black,
I think I’m becoming more normal,
But it’s not happening fast,
I live like I’m at a gangster Formal,
Deadly with a touch of class.


  1. Reminds me of a Mos Def song. I like it.

  2. Really laying out your soul in this, well done.

  3. I love it! Just menacing enough to be dark, but creative enough to be another of your better ones!


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poems and thoughts by E.A. Skanchy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License