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COMIN FROM WHERE I'M FROM

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  • COMIN FROM WHERE I'M FROM

    COMIN FROM WHERE I'M FROM
    Von Calypso
    Crest Hill, IL

    Comin from the ghetto,
    The yelling mother makes outside a meadow.
    Hellos are hugs and kisses, euphonies from the chello.
    Fresh kicks are Christmas gifts, but scuffing those, equal next Christmas missed.
    Bills put on layaway, hoping that you can make the bed, before you have to lay away.
    Stay awake, brother, sister and the provider. That’s the heater, candy and conniver.
    Sellin chocolate is the decider, but when you out, you gotta be a fighter.
    Hoping that chocolate can pay the bills, because hood niggas ain’t equipped with any skills.
    Tryin to cut deals. Givin stamps, skippin meals, for a push to the heel.
    So you can see when you walk in the house again.
    No electric isn’t the ideal Black Friday.
    It’s like that, no change up in the hood, not arranged up in the hood.
    Anything not trendy, strange up in the hood,
    But wonder why upper echelon is being a Wendy’s manager up in the hood.
    Basketball players and rappers are hood scholars and the ones that get the holler.
    Creating 16 and pregnants, failed expectations, life limitations,
    Unprepared parenting, no more time for meriting, kid like parents trait inheriting.
    Keeping us stuck in the paradigm, when we should be making pairs to shine.
    Kids that is intellectually driven, sharp like prism corners with good family order.
    Each generation should be better than the previous, blooming beautiful like freesias.
    The way we think needs to stop matching our street slums.
    The ghetto is the shoe that repeatedly steps on the gum.
    Stuck to the nasty things in life, because of comin from where I’m from.


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