The creator's my Homey, so I'm never short.
He lets me know when to chill in the park
and when to cool out by the river.
He schools me with knowledge of self
keeps me doing the right thing to maintain his rep.
And yo, even when I step through the shadows
of the buildings in the projects,
I don't sweat it, cuz he got my back.
He flexes whenever suckers try to get ill
and puts me down by law.
So I'll definitely be living large until I'm outta here
and then I'll be chilling at his crib, forever.
Beside the dumpster,
a rat drinking rainwater
from an eggshell.
Snow lines window ledge,
something warms my sleeping back
your open brown eyes.
On this brick wall
the sprayed name of a dead kid,
© Copyright 2001 Gerald Dias Porter.
-- April 9, 2001
2001-05 Seeing Black, Inc. All Rights Reserved.