fraja killa

They Call Me A Killa - Poem by fraja killa

Im the hustler in my hood
they fear me but fear is respect
out here people die daily
the government don't care 'bout us
we are like a third world country
16 years old got two kids with no hope
there is no school no shelter
To surive you got be a survier
its not for the weak of heart
Out here ether you'r fly or your not
but i survie i got the hood on my side
its my play ground
I own every corner they all listen to me
Cause im a hustler you see
dont even think of betrayin me
I got no dependences out here im the queen
The thugs try to hit on me
they got nuthin for me
Im the hustler out here
How i got here wasn't fair
You see out here there is only one law
you keep wat you kill
and me well they call killa.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about They Call Me A Killa by fraja killa

  • (2/14/2010 5:49:00 PM)

    Wow.........I'm speachless (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (2/14/2010 5:04:00 PM)

    Wow, babe, you killed the paper on this one. This is some nice stuff. I'm sure you are a killer. Every guy be like shouting at you and bowing in the streets. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Sunday, February 14, 2010

[Report Error]