'Hood Song' Poem by Intellectual Violence

The streets speak and cry to me
Tell me their stories
Such dark truths
Some think they're fallacies

It is here I catch the voices of spilled blood
Embedded deep within the cracks
It is here that I feel this savage garden
As it engulfs and traps

It is here
That I must make my presence known
Through the pores of this blood soaked asphalt
My roots are sown

I'm not one of those men
Those of elegant speech
But through encoded street jargon
Still I teach

Spread the lyrics of street psalms
Enscribed all over the walls
Tell the stories of how Generals rise
And soldiers fall

Theme songs
Of things wrong
Sung over beats of repetitious harmonies
Pain goin on
For so long
Unending the list of casualties

Rage yelled from project roof tops
Echoing through urine scented hallways
Children cry as dreams die
Yet we remain as soldiers always

Tatto'd tear drops
As we stop
To mourn the loss and take the lives of our own
Savagely
We ignorantly
Continue to sing this song

This is a hood song

If I am to be the first
Please allow me to be there till the last
This philosophy won't stop at me
And onto the young this I will pass

The truth of corner prophets
Destroyed by crack vials and money stacks
This hood song will continue on
Because even in death I am just that

I am the hoods' song