Worth is What it does.

Peep the scene. I see you standing on the corner looking all mean. Trying to make a quick dollar so you can live that ghetto dream. Hustling; trying to represent for the team. You pushing that crack rock and you only sell it to the folks that live on your block. Living that Thug Life faking' like you that nigga 'PAC. You got big heart because you tote a glock. Everything is good to you because you're making money around the clock. Often, you're looking over your shoulder, watching out for them haters, robbers, and free basers. Never do stop to think that today maybe the day that you meet your maker. As time goes by, you adapt a routine. But little do you know that there is always someone peeping your scene. Things was going just great until that day you got robbed for your paper. It's fucked up that it was your crack head ass neighbor. Now you're short all the funds to your supplier. Gone is the money you got from your buyers. You get paranoid because you lack the paper to fill the void. The big man is searching for you and your friends. He don't want hear that shit about you not having his ends. It seems like every minute you're at the window; peeking through the blinds; losing your mind. Frantic, scared, and afraid because you know you're dead if that man don't get paid. You can't sleep without your gun or your knife because you fear for your life. Desperation sits in and you devise a plan to become a stick up man. Black hoodies, black jeans, and Tim Boots. Ready to shoot, rob, or steal to get that loot. Now the time has come to execute your plan so you can get them boys off your back. Little did you know that your first victim was a narc named Jack? Now you got charges for the gun, the robbery, and they got you on tape slinging those rocks. The judge is going to give you more time than minutes on the clock. Was it worth it? Is it worth it?

All the money you made in the streets and you never paid a lawyer a retainer. Get ready to live your life inside an eight-by-six container. The life you had is no more. The judge gave you the court appointed counselor fresh out of law school. Now you feel stupid; such a fool. Should've stayed your ass in school. Can't write a sentence right and don't understand the charges that your being prosecuted for. Your cellmate tapping that ass; got your butt all sore. You played the game but failed to score. All you are is a statistic with a number on your chest. Not a day goes by where don't think that you may be shanked in that hornet's nest. Was it worth it? Is it worth it?

Robbers, killers, and dealers is all around; stuck in a cage shackled and bound. You hold your head down in fear with nothing to say. You skinny now because everyday somebody is roughing' you for your tray. Barefoot because they take your shoes and your commissary. They even changed your name to Mary. Got you washing they clothes and braiding their hair. The inmates use you like a timeshare. Was it worth it? Is it worth it?

After losing years of your life; you emerge from the system a homosexual with no direction. No skills, no hope, and you still got probation. Pissing in the cup; living life wearing an ankle monitor. The only jobs available to you is to fix shit or be a janitor. One day you look up and you're cleaning the halls in the same place where you use to ball. All you can do is regret the past. Wishing you knew all the ramifications of your actions when you thought your life was a blast. Only now can you realize that you was just another member of the cast. Destined for nowhere, wishing for riches in a game that is never fair. I say to you..... Was it worth it? Is it worth it?

VCW

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