On Sight


Oh, bruh act like he don’t hear me?



We got some unfinished business Bitch!

Square up ‘n run that!

You know where the fuck I’m from.

Like Stacey from The Wood,

I’m huntin’ yo Ass down,

ready to shed some blood cuhs you put yo hands on my sister.              

Only this ain’t no school yard fight Boy,

What the fuck you thought?

You know how we get down in Long Beach.

This shit ain’t new to you.

Square the fuck up or get stomped the fuck out!

My sister’s blood is on yo' handz,

And that’s on me,

I need those handz!

Fuck twist’n my fingaz with my handz,

I put my money where my mouth is.

Like De’Aundre Bonds,

I know I’m little;

BET I’ll still mop yo Ass up with this piece!

You thought you was gon’ get off for nearly murdering my sister?

On east side:

I keep poets lined up on payroll writin’ to take yo Ass out;

piece by piece.

I don’t give a fuck what hood you reppin’!

Fuck you and yo' ink!

I know where yo' people stay at and that’s on the set!

We each got a piece loaded for them too if they want it!

Like YG,

My word is Bond.

Bes’ believe you gettin’ what’s comin’ for you.

I don’t give a fuck about no 5.0!

I’ll get locked up, have the whole hood hashtaggin’ #FREEwrite,

then be back on the block where I got put on:

This Dead Poets Society!

You betta’ know who you fuckin’ wit’!

How you claim to be gang bangin’, not knowin’ who you beefin’ wit’?

We slaughter cowards who get caught slippin’ thinkin’ women are their territory.

We kill off all marks of margins that bargain for women to remain in their place.

We stick up for women's rights knowin’ the topic hits a hotspot.

We bag bodies to solve a problem with another problem.

We press the issue of violence to raise an upper hand against womanizers like YOU,

Like most of my sister’s ex-boyfriends,

Like most of my mother’s ex-boyfriends,

Like most of my aunt’s ex-boyfriends,

Like my homegirl’s current boyfriend,

Like my immediate male cousin,

Like my biological father,

Like the President of the United States of America!


Fuck, being politically correct!

I have the right to be angry!

Fuck, upholding Christian ethics!

I’ve held my tongue long enough!

Fuck, existential philosophy!

I question the morality of choices made by men who have yet to take responsibility and experience the consequences of their freedom!

Fuck the system!


Oh but You?

You back home, huh?

Fresh out the pen!

The penitentiary only wrote you off to serve five years with what? One year parole?


You thought you was gon’ come back after nearly murdering my sister?

Ain’t nobody fuckin’ wit’ you no more!

You deserve to die!

Like ‘Pac, I hit ‘em up and will make sure you die slow.

They call me: Green Mile

Like the state of Louisiana I’m runnin’ that Ass straight to the electric chair because you didn’t plead guilty!

For the record:

I look forward to the aftermath!

Welcome to Deathrow motherfucker this piece is your death sentence.

(Pretend Spit)


This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 



This is fucking awesome


Thank you! I appreciate you!

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