(Dedication/Inspiration: 50 Cent a.k.a. Curtis Jackson)
In my hood,
I hold the position of power.
Send out the blood hounds,
Run up on my enemies,
with a fully loaded clip,
Forcing them to back down,
Have the police yelling,
'Retreat, Officer down! '
Many men wish death on me,
So if I'm supposed to die tonight,
I'll be patiently waiting.
My gun will go off,
and you'll realize,
Your life's on the line,
The heat will fire again,
and your soul will touch the sky.
So follow my lead,
As we walk straight to the bank,
Because my money comes and goes,
But a hustler's ambition is eternal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
makes me think, that. the ghetto story... i wonder what its like. I like your choice of words, and in that order. brill poem.