"You a gangsta, do what you gotta do, you feel me homie".
[youngsta scared he survey his surrounding the block is
oddly silent the sun blaring down with it's heat but dog in
his hands make him feel cold he just looks at it knowing
what he gotta do, 2 weeks ago his little brother was gunned
down.]
"o.k. big homie".
"handle your bussiness".
[he put the heartless beast in his waistband tucked
underneath his shirt.
Youngsta sits in the backseat of a police car handcuffed,
his mother tears won't set him free, her pain is his own
prison, he just turns away, she yearns to hold him one last
time.]