it starts on my block with my friends
it’s a normal day of fun, games, grilling and chilling
we’ve been sipping, someone on the block is sparking
they put it in the air,
I’m sure we smell like it.
up the block is a liquor store that doubles like a general store.
we start to stroll there (we been sipping so no driving)
we’re a pride to behold on our supply stroll.
not even glancing at the people who happen to trail us
we could have seen their hurt filled eyes or even their shiny shields.
getting to the store we load up the carts
half smokes & buns…. check and check
Rum? which kind? Cruzan & Malibu… Got it
we pull more products down restocking our supply
we catch 1st the cashier’s eye. She say Hi
we catch securities eye. he signals the men outside
pulling up checking out
pulling out cash the bills hits $600.
We count it out to the T
security still looking.
we load up bags
putting them on our backs.
walking out the door
they hold us up asking about the cash we carry
wanting to see ID
grabbing our shirt, trying to see our ink
asking what set we claim.
We tell ’em Fuck off and push past
Cept I’m last out the door.
its six of them 1 of me
the head one flashes that shield his crew flashes their steel.
I’ve got my hands up & back down
I put my bag down hearing bottles clink.
the store owner demands we all leave
my boys are stuck outside waiting for me.
the phones come out when the chrome comes out.
They’re saying something about gang this or that
do I have any tats?
where I stay?
Any weapons on me?
I can’t process what they’re saying.
I’m only seeing the gun in my face
my life is in their hands, not a whole hand but a finger.
I pull out my ID
quelling their perception of my identity
they don’t see the hours I work with kids
or the degree i’m getting
the life laying before me.
instead they see all negatives that I call positives
from dreads (I call Locks)
to looking like the bloc (it’s the weekend so no Tie for me)
They say they smell weed (it’s in the air, but it ain’t me)
they’re not trying to understand me or think of my family.
I sneeze and my body jerk
I hit the floor
my chest burns & i’m can’t figure why
people are screaming
my hands are sticky
i’m getting chill
raising my body
trying to stand
raising my head
I still can’t hear them
I don’t hear the report
feeling it is whats left
seeing the hateful glare
my last thought is