Thug Poem by Mazwi Sedibe

I lived a life of a snide.
Always in a mission to spite.
Despite the fact that I like to fight.
I was cruel by night.
I chose my booze.
I didn't care.
It didn't matter who‘s who,
And who said what.
When I had money I was loose.
I cleansed my tongue with vulgar.
I spat it out so warmly like vapour.
From the F' word to anything about your mama ekse'.
I liked my marijuana wrapped in one of those bible verses.
Enjoyed taking offerings from the people that carried purses,
And they were on their way to various churches.
See the ka ching ching and bling bling of money and chains,
I've earned, for I am friends with guns a bullets.
I mean even gun calls me son.
I've always been behind him.
The cars, the women and all the craze,
Earned me all the praise.
I was connected and mobile,
More than a mobile network.
Romoured as the notorious thug,
But mama always received a gentle hug,
And I still see her shot in the coffee mug.
I know she still not R.I.P of the life of a thug.
I'm sorry mama; but this life,
Is deep within my system like a drug.
I live a life of a lame.
Always facing shame.
Despite the fact that I am defamed.
I have lost all the fame.
Young boys know this thug life,
Is never the right lane.