Young'un

Preteen,

and I'm about to leave this place.

No more hood people,

about to meet another race.

White people,

Asians, a side to behold.

But racist life coming,

is the thoughts I hold.

Can I make it,

can I become something.

Be a success story,

that came from nothing.

Develop some connections,

and get my friends out.

Buy out a culdesac,

see the good living we've been told about.

Make it to the top,

be a CEO.

Be the king of an empire,

never have to stoop so low.

Never steal, deal,

or live that life again.

Be on that fast track,

to live a life of win.

Can I make it though,

in a place where I'm foreign.

Where when I ask questions,

I'm the person everyone's ignoring.

Take it in stride,

I'm the one who can go so far.

Think of the nice houses,

and that dream car.

Trying to make it out,

and put my crew on.

So our kids future,

we can finally own.

But life isn't so simple,

and the game at that easy.

People try to set you up,

get you hurt, they so greasy.

Trying to escape that life,

but yall keep bringing the worse out.

Trying to get those books,

and sports, just workout.

Black power, black pride,

accusations ridiculous.

The stuff is sliding,

just getting to conspicuous.

Just trying to make it out,

yet society wants to hold me back.

My controllable qualities excellent,

but forget that, I'm black.

So you trying to keep me down,

got me praying to my maker.

About to turn back to that hood life,

and back to a taker.

Damn.