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Something Different

August 14, 2013

08-14-2013 Something Different

It started with poetry and music is also poetry. I’ve been writing lyrics about how I feel a very long time, and sometimes just for fun. I’ve written alternative rock songs, rap songs, heavy metal songs, R&B songs, and a country song. This one is a “sing-songy” rap song. If you’ve ever heard anything by Bone Thugs-N-Harmony, then you know what I’m talking about. Just thought I’d share it … something different.

Everyday Struggle

Everyday we struggle on, ooh ooh ooh
I’ve gotta get my hustle on
Everyday we struggle on, ooh ooh ooh
I’ve gotta get my hustle on

I remember not havin enough food up in the fridge for us kids
So what I did: I hit the streets to get my hustle on
Pops is strung out on the couch and mama followed suit
so I strap on my boots before I head on out
Only doin what I’m able, puttin food up on the table
No telephone line, no cable
I went up in that wallet and I took them dollas
Turned up my colla
I’m a street thug, criminal
You can’t blame me, for the streets done raised me
Call me crazy or the name that the streets done gave me
Lord, please save us… if not, then just save my babies
(Standin in the breadline with a token. Standin on the corner smokin)

Everyday we struggle on, ooh ooh ooh
I’ve gotta get my hustle on
Everyday we struggle on, ooh ooh ooh
I’ve gotta get my hustle on

I’m going to sleep when my tummy hurts
Wearin these same damn jeans and this t-shirt
I’m only nine years old but I’m damn sure
Sick of this shit so I’m hittin this bitch–
the streets, my second mother
I wanna touch ya with my soul when I rhyme and I pray
Too damn young for a job a job that’ll pay so I’ve gotta find a way to get mine
Too damn young for this weed and this wine so tell me why I’m gettin high
Cus I’m runnin the streets every night, bloodshot eyes
When the gunshots fly innocents die
In a sense I died a long time ago
(I’d like to believe everything’s gonna be alright. But I don’t know.)

Everyday we struggle on, ooh ooh ooh
I’ve gotta get my hustle on
Everyday we struggle on, ooh ooh ooh
I’ve gotta get my hustle on

Wakin up in the foster home
I want my life back
She said she’d take us right back
But we never went back
I resent that
I hit the system
Kickin and screamin but nobody’s listenin
So I’m spittin and dreamin about these platinum records that will glisten
on my walls as I’m walkin through the halls
Only 13 years young in a cell
who can I trust in this hell
I’m by myself, oh well
All alone growin up and they wonder why I’m showin up kinda fucked up.
(I’m fucked up? hell yeah!)
(Even after all these years you still won’t apologize for my tears)
My daddy’s kinda faggy and I wish he never had me
My jeans are kinda baggy and I’m steppin kinda sadly
The lady really likes me cus she say I’m kinda savvy
The lady’s really pretty and I want her so badly, so badly
(so have me)
I hit the block in the mornin’ the cops are swarmin
cus I just hit a lick in the dew of the morn
The dew of mornin

Everyday we struggle on, ooh ooh ooh
I’ve gotta get my hustle on
Everyday we struggle on, ooh ooh ooh
I’ve gotta get my hustle on

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From → BLOG, Songs

3 Comments
  1. Very moving and sounding too true to life.

    Like

  2. This is brilliant– for me, this would make excellent spoken poetry– skip the music, keep the beat in your head, the audience feels it with you…Also, just as a critique (because I only ever offer critique to things that are worth while)…end with the line “Even after all these years you still won’t apologize for my tears” and then the repetition of chorus, but skip the lines in between. They detract from the tone of the rest of the poem.

    Anyway, awesome write. ~peace, Jason

    Like

  3. It’s a rap, so it is, in a way, spoken poetry. I’d like to record this song along with others and put them on YouTube. (I think it’s better than a majority of rap out there these days.)

    Like

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