Hip Hop Poem by Ima Ryma

In the '70's in the Bronx
Poor blacks in ghettos gave me life.
In the streets and the honky tonks
I eased some of the stress and strife.
Anti-drug, anti-violence hope
I got sang out in rhythmic style,
A ways and means singers could cope
With a hard culture for a while.
A fav at block parties I grew
To be a hit in my own way,
Singers and dancers grooving to
My magic made by the D.J.

Hip hop music I came to be.
Now decades around has been me.