Corey Threet

Rookie - 0 Points (Buffalo, New york)

R&B (C) 1-15-09 - Poem by Corey Threet

Once upon a time there were two brothers
And they were by the same mother
And they loved their family and the community and others
They were alike in every way except they like a different color
And this is where the story begins so listen my brotha

The one brother was tall and enjoyed the sight blue
And it’s true he was loved by me you and the world too.
Then the other loved red
And didn’t want any to be dead
So he helped everyone out and highly he held his head

But on one crazy night the brothers got into a fight
And instead of telling their anger
they were greeted near a manger by a very creepy stranger

He said one day you two’ll drift away and become evil goons
Smacking Niggaz hoes and people til the break of many moons
You won’t rest until the day that one of you is dead
And the blue will call himself crip and blood will be the color red
You’ll take what you want no askin just say gimme
Shoot a nigga in the back then load back up the semi
And all only for the dropp of a penny
Take whatever he got then got back to house
And party till completely intoxicated by ma remy
You’ll dream that one day this war will be over in time
But until that day you’ll still partake in government crime
Send out ya troops and have them sell records by bustin a rhyme
And make so much money that even ya lights illuminate in lime
You’ll see that forever your legacy will live on
and you will change as the six o’clock hits as the crack of dawn
Now this fight that you had should’ve never took place
Now I’ll go but leavin you while your mind is in the mode of erase

Delete all and copy into their brains the evil thoughts of this man
It’s crazy how one thing can change the world and by a dude you’ll never see again

Six o’ clock stormed in and the brothers were reborn by hate
Ironically though from a harsh birth the brothers felt great
The war began and Hate continued to reproduce
He still had Niggaz in the south hangin by a noose
But with the war against the colors the no longer needed to fight
They just supplied the guns drugs and evil then called it a night
The dark feline wanted to supply his owner with a chance for hope
But the Panther couldn’t stand a chance against the latest crave dope
Well how sad the Panther was disbanded and the Klan was reprimanded
But to be broken up it’s funny how that they weren’t demanded
I against it suffer from this fever and I’ve become a believer
Of how we’re still slaves as much as a tree is to a Beaver
But I’m Clever I’ll endeavor to completely pull the lever
And hopefully my legacy will live on forever.

Copyright 1-15-09 ©® Corey Threet

Comments about R&B (C) 1-15-09 by Corey Threet

  • (3/10/2009 9:18:00 PM)

    Wow, I have gained a new respect for R&B, thank you, brotha. (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 15, 2009

Poem Edited: Monday, March 8, 2010

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