Ghetto Games

Ghetto Games

A Chapter by M. Barham

I Am A Poet


I am a poet…

I am a poet in every sense of the word

Even before I first heard or was introduced

To views like “I, Too” by Langston Hughes

I already knew what I wanted to do

I wanted to flow too!

I wanted to play with words

Because when you have that way with words

There is an infinite potential for things you can

Or not say...with words

Whether metaphorically implied…or categorically denied

Or historically and mandatorily recited orally with pride

Like “I, pledge allegiance to” what he said
Until it eventually became what we said
But then one day I heard what she said

And she said that I was kind of cute and asked me what my name was

And it was a shame because she had just exposed my weakness

 Standing there frozen and speechless

I realized that my composure was simply no match for her sweetness

So knowing a “we” could never be

Because she was her and I was only me

I remained a lonely me

While she had just unknowingly become my poetry…

Now this talent that I found in pursuit of her affection

Took me through a new direction

Usually somewhere near an intersection

Because my goal was to match her sweet

But truth be told she liked it street

So I found myself having to compete with dudes that could do it on beat

That was the new shine!

That’s cool I’ll just design each line so that the rhyme falls in time

With some hands clapping or some fingers snapping

See rapping gave those of us with something to say a reason to say it

We weren’t worried about getting the radio to play it

Because Hip Hop was underground

Man…I used to love the sound of real emcees spitting!

So I was like a student of the stars

Studying this steady stream of new styles

‘Cause where I’m from…

You didn’t have to wait for your first court date to go through a few trials

And neither did these dudes

Being able to read the clues I could see that these blues

Were shared by a long list of others

Made me understand why we call each other sisters and brothers

Because you don’t have to be in the same situation

For your situations to be the same

It’s all ghetto games…

And from that moment on these situations became my poetry…




Growin’ Up As A Teen


Growin' up as a teen

I was raised to be different… gifted

But like many brothers I drifted

I got a taste of the streets

Now I don't feel complete

Until my feet hit the concrete

On the block hangin' amongst the hustlers

Even though I was just a youngster

I would try to do the right thing

But my daily routine

Always ended up

With the night scene

Bombers and jeans

Drama gettin' played at the house

So I stayed out

No doubt I gotta

Kick it with the fellas

If you can't do nothin'

Then it's nothin' you can tell us

Born rebellious

Plottin' scheme after scheme

Chasin' dream after dream

Growin’ up as a teen…




Growing Up As A Teen (Verse 2)


Growin up as a teen

Seemed like I had a dark side

Couldn't shake it loose

No matter how hard I tried

Tellin' lies and stealin’ quick

You hate the kids that I’m dealing with

I throw away what others kill to get

I’m in my ship and I’m sinkin'

And all this drinkin's

Got me doin' things

Without thinkin'

I realize all the pain I put you through

I truly apologize

I never meant to hurt you

Thought I was doin'

What had to be done

Ended up a war

That just had to one

Dad and son

Enemies on opposing teams

These are my memories

Growin’ up as a teen…




Growing Up As A Teen (Verse 3)


Growin' up a teen

I had dreams of livin' well

But tryin' to make it happen

Made my life a livin' hell

Young black male

Used to have a crew

But now we're more like family

So what you wanna do

Got a little size now

Got a little rep

Gotta watch your step

‘Cause now you're a threat

No more little wild juvenile

That was then…

Get caught slippin'

And they're gonna

Ship you to the pen…but then again

Can't keep dealin' with these streets

Red beams, blue lights,

Yellow tape and white sheets

You might sleep one time too many

And never even get to see twenty

Growin’ up as a teen…




Sleepers (R.I.P. 1989)


How many more times do I need to see

A funeral…

Before the dead man is me?

Thoughts like this fill my head when I’m in bed

I wonder what will be said

About me when I’m dead

“He was a good man…His life should’ve lasted longer”

Or “Forget that dead b*****d…Stronger men died for less”

Or will they say “Rest in peace” and “God Bless”

Either way it goes when I’m dead I’m a memory

And what I do in life

Will determine how you remember me

Hopefully as a good guy but why lie

Just ‘cause I ain’t scared
don’t mean I’m ready to die

At 17

As young as that might seem

But nowadays living to 25 is a pipe dream

I mean how am I supposed to react

Seein’ my partners dead and knowing they won’t be back

To give me a pound ‘cause they can’t come around again

But at least we were friends ‘til the end so I begin

To reminisce and this just makes my thoughts go deeper

Damn…Peace to the sleepers…




Sleepers (Verse 2)


Layin’ in bed I heard a gunshot

I heard a woman scream

Yellin’ ‘cause her son got killed

And a chill went down my spine

What if I was a father and that child was mine?

Could I comfort my wife?

Would I be strong and go on with my life?

Or would I dwell on the fact that I couldn’t save him

When somebody came and stole the life God gave him?

I see the woman down the street drop to one knee

Yellin’ “Lord, give him back and take me!”

Her other son said “It’s too late for that…

All the beggin’ in the world won’t bring my brother back…

What’s done is done…”

He went to get his gun

Now she’s about to lose another son

‘Cause he was out to get even

Walked in…Shot’em up…

Cops caught him when he was leavin’

He was barely 16 years old

Facin’ life in jail with no hope for parole

I ask myself…”Am I my brothers’ keeper?”

Respect due to the sleepers…




Sleepers (Verse 3)


The sleepers lay in a peaceful rest

I guess it’s only the livin’ that remain restless

Wonderin’ what would’ve been

Or what could’ve been

If it hadn’t been

For the damned grave they put’em in

Because if they hadn’t passed away

Then who’s to say

What might’ve happened the next day?

Or the next year if they were still here

But they’re not so we drop’em a little beer

I know it ain’t much

It’s just our way of saying “Peace”

To all of those who are deceased

We all lost those that shared love

That’s why death

Ain’t somethin’ we’re scared of

I know one day I’ll meet the maker

And they’ll be having my funeral

Sooner or later

So now I pray my Lord my soul to keep

When they lay me down to sleep

With the sleepers…




 “Hands Up” (No Surrender)


It ain’t hard to understand us

How are we supposed to calm down

Knowin’ that they shot Michael Brown with his hands up?

They killed Eric Garner while the dude was wearing handcuffs

Portrayin’ us like a bunch of thugs

That needs to pull our pants up

But that’s your plan, huh?

Publicly tell us to man up and tear us down

Before we get the chance to stand up

Don’t bring the Klan up or you’re playin’ the race card

That’s the Devil tellin’ the Lord to “Stay in your place God”

Or get your face scarred

Better not leave your house

And those thoughts that are on your mind

Better not leave your mouth

Or they’re gonna squeeze you out

Leave your mama something to grieve about

Be the next fatality we read about

While the media keeps feeding doubt

Conveniently leavin’ out

The fact that that ain’t what my breeds about

So it’s just me against the life ender

If you see me with my “Hands Up” it ain’t because I surrender…




Subliminal Messages


Subliminal messages in speeches

Comin' from teachers and preachers

Mentally bleach us into believin'

We ain't all Gods’ creatures

Look out for devils with angelic features

The type to holler heaven help us

Hopin’ the Lord can't reach us

Like it ain't just us

They're brainwashin' us

Tamin', trainin', watchin’ us

Decades of fadin' in and out of consciousness

Wake up long enough for them to aim the cops at us

And then it’s back to boxin' us

Like we're a bunch of hostages

Preposterous or not we're still falling for the obstacles

State, Fed or pronounced dead at the hospital

Act like bein' logical's impossible

Too busy bein' mobsters to be responsible

So we give in to crime

Imprison the mind ‘till vision is blind

And then we're just livin' a lie

But ‘til we can find the will to survive

We're really just livin' to die…




The Price Of Fame


I mentally dwell in a parallel universe

With a physical limitation to remain on earth

Where the pain won’t hurt

Those whose brains don’t work

‘Til they’re layin’ in the dirt

With a stain on their shirt

Deaf, dumb and numb

Too young to understand

So he cried ‘til he died

With crumbs in his hand

No one man runs the land

Just guns and plans

In hands of sons and daughter

That were taught to slaughter

What we oughta be doin’

We ain’t feelin’ yet

Moved and improved but didn’t kill the threat

So we’re still in check

Damned shame the way the game

Has us getting blown out of the frame

Just so somebody knows your name

The price of fame…




Ghetto Games


Thinkin’ to yourself what is it all for now?

When they’re bustin’ your door down

“Get on the floor now!”

Run in your place and stick a shotgun in your face

Say “Just in case you want to bass I’ve got one you can taste!”

“You’ll get done and erased!”

“I’ll kill your daddy’s son by mistake!”

“You wanna thump? We’ll see how many lumps you can take

Before you end up gettin’ dumped in a lake!”

The homie told me it was time to start pumping my brakes

Now I’m stuck with the jakes

They want to talk about some cases

One just ended, one suspended and one still pending

That’s just the beginnin’…Told me if I trust and befriend him

And give him info, I won’t need a public defender

Said “We’ll forget about the s**t you were sellin’

Overlook the books callin’ you a habitual felon just start tellin’

Or God help him…Looks like your squad left you out to hang

Might as well tell about the gang shippin’ out them things”

But I say never lay all of your cards on the table

‘Cause in the land of the unstable, mistakes can be fatal

So open your eyes, recognize and maintain

Gotta stay sane when you’re playin’ those ghetto games…




Ghetto Games (Verse 2)


I went from under surveillance

To under arrest

Under investigation

Fight my indictment next

Probably be better for me just to confess and tell the truth

Well at least about the things that they can prove…

Gotta be smooth

Only tell them what they already know for sure

Take the rap like a “No Snitchin’” poster boy

They told me that I would be facin’ prison

Unless I had some information to give’em

Let’s ride!

Too much pride to run and hide

Even if it means seeing the penitentiary

From the other side…

I tried!

So no I’m not ashamed of the truth

I play the game the same way that I explain it to you

When I say

Never lay all of your cards on the table

‘Cause in the land of the unstable, mistakes can be fatal

So open your eyes, recognize and maintain

Gotta stay sane when you’re playin’ those ghetto games…




Ghetto Games (Verse 3)


I gotta give it how I get it, lyric for lyric

 So you can feel it when I spit it crystal clear and vivid

Take you there and let you live it from fear to exquisite

Or maybe visit the spirit of soldiers no longer with us

We know that they are itchin’ to get us

So we handle our business

No victim or witness no way to convict us

They analyze and predict us like they tricked us with the sickness

When motion pictures depict us as cotton pickers and block n****s

With Glock triggers clockin’ figures from rock hitters

They’ll shop with us if the description does not fit us

Cop with us beggars, bootleggers and shoplifters

Wanna split the pot with us but can’t hit the spot with us

Might get hot with us

And they snitch if they get knocked with us

So we thug it ‘til the cops get us or multiple shots hit us

Tell them that they cannot split us

And only the realest most fearless G’s

Will ever get to ride with us

Never lay all of your cards on the table

‘Cause in the land of the unstable, mistakes can be fatal

So open your eyes, recognize and maintain

Gotta stay sane when you’re playin’ those ghetto games…




Convict Blues


I run laps on tracks that ain’t there

Heard’em say it ain’t fair like the State cares

Tears and fears are two things you can’t share

Better prepare with a couple years to spare

Crime careers got’em singing songs in prison

Sentenced in months

Hope you’re good at long division

Baby Mama flipping ‘cause your son keeps tripping

Too grown to listen and he’s gone missing

You’re on the phone wishing that you were at home with him

You’d hug him and kiss him

Tell him “C’mon we’re going fishing!”

But you can’t make decisions about his living conditions

When you can’t even take a piss

Without getting permission

Instilling wisdom is difficult from inside of a cell

Gotta look inside of yourself

Try to find some pride in yourself

You tell your son “Sometimes you gotta ride for yourself”

He’s looking at you like

“You should‘ve tried that yourself”

And he’s right…




Same Old Two Step


It’s like I’m takin’ two steps forward and two steps back

It ain’t no way that I can ever get anywhere like that

Except right here where I’m at runnin’ behind the pack

Before I’m done with the rhyme

They’re rewindin’ the track

I got no time to relax just recognize and react

Supposed to be right and exact

More like blind to the facts

They got us grindin’ spendin’ time in a trap

We’re even glorifyin' it in raps

Now how mindless is that?

Like it’s a crime to be black and proud

You’re asking for trouble

Convicted of existence and sentenced to the struggle

Where you don’t know a damned thing that ain’t payin’ double

Wanna shower your campaign with champagne bubbles

Pay the cost to shine like you’re the boss of crime

Crossed the line and almost lost your mind

Caught some time

‘Til you’re home where you belong

Back to where you were before it all went wrong

Taking two steps forward and two steps back…

 



Draw The Line


Would you trade your integrity to live the life of a celebrity

Go temporarily insane for a taste of fame

And folks knowin’ your name

Would you stay in your lane waitin’ for change

Would you play in the flame prayin’ for rain

Can't explain what the game will do to you

Ain't the same when everything is new to you

Like a beast on display the world is a zoo to you

But the ones that are true to you can't even get through to you

Where do you stand in the land of the underhanded

Where getting stranded might be the way they planned it

Branded...Can't understand…it was all good a week ago

Now they act like you ain't speak before

To each his own with what you are reachin’ for

Some are so low they will show you depths that you ain't even seen before

Still want to be known for a deeper role

Put your soul in a sleeper hold with no hope to see parole

Then maybe you will get it…

 

Should’ve turned back when you saw the signs

Blinded by all the fame and all the shine

Can't please all the people all the time

Somewhere you're going to have to draw the line




Draw The Line (Verse 2)


Small town girl, big city vacation

Met a slick talker with a quick conversation

Said he was an agent and in the right situation

She could be, the next big sensation

Desperation can't be patient

To succeed she agreed to penetration

He said he needs a demonstration

And your potential is the same as your limitation

She didn't mind because, she thought he was fine

Said he really cared about her and she bought every line

He twisted a sack brought her a drink to relax

Said go on and throw on something sexy and I'll be right back

She took his suggestion

Put on her best to impress him

Whatever he wants

He could get it with no stressing

What happened next is in question

All she remembers is a group of dudes undressing

That when she got it…

 

Should’ve turned back when you saw the signs

Blinded by all the fame and all the shine

Can't please all the people all the time

Somewhere you're going to have to draw the line...




A Shot Of Reality


I took a shot of reality

And chased it with sorrow

Smokin' the old days

Laced with no tomorrow

Got a childhood I can borrow?

Mine is missin'

An infant tried as an adult

Sentenced to mental prison

I wanted to run away

But I got caught and tackled

They wouldn't put their guns away

Till all my thoughts were shackled

Brought me in a stack of lies

Made me memorize 'em

Leavin' me hypnotized

Without me even realizin'

Spelled my name numerically

And increased my medication

‘Til I was addicted to the adrenalin rush

Involved with altercation

The heartless kept in dark across the nation

Sparkin’ operations based on

Guns and confrontation

Less education

Led to separation

But bein’ deaf, dumb and blind

Left plenty of time for meditation

Self evaluation led to re-creation

All the thoughts about the time wastin’

Finally led to pacin’

The isolation acted like an incubation

Saw a spark in the dark

And went towards it with no hesitation

The salutations were

“Peace and blessings”

Told me I would need protection

And proceeded teachin’ lessons

Showed me how to read people

Told me the only reason

To play the fool

Is to deceive the evils

See, we've been trained to hate ourselves

And degrade ourselves

Hell we even sedate ourselves

So we got it straight ourselves

Got a date with fate to emancipate ourselves…


 


A Shot Of Reality Pt. II (Double Shot)


I took a double shot straight to the brain

And tasted the pain

Of a generation wastin' in vain from chasin’ the fame

And then the cases came replacin’ the chains

‘Til only small traces remain from the places they came

It's so much hate in game

They ain't gotta change the rules

House n***a's evolved but there still the same fools

Field n***a's switched up and started yellin' thugs

Without knowin’ the truth

Now reduced to sellin’ drugs

Tellin' us that our instincts are failin' us

Too many of the devil's ways still dwell in us

Like it's a spell on us and we can't let it go

Heredity embedded deep in our genetic code

Like we were only fed to grow

Taught to never know

Never keep… just blow

Never reap… just sow

Given the toughest row to hoe

And the hardest flow to master

And directions to disaster

If we don't get it right…




My People…


My People, why are we so hell bent on falling from grace?

 The greatest race to ever be placed on this earth's face is now just a disgrace.

We used to embrace each other, when we would greet each other

Now we chase each other and beat each other

We waste each other when we meet each other

Like we hate each Mother for ever giving birth to another member of our human race

What we are doing is insane and only a human can be that inhumane.

 Do you even get what I am saying?

 My People...

Unequaled in our appetite for destruction

Or maybe this is just the prequel for some future malfunction

 Caused by creations of our own construction

Because these once in a lifetime opportunities

Are taken for granted as quickly as they are landed

Everything has been handed to us so easily

 So, what is a few more measly casualties in the grand scheme of things?

 Where one's dreamers dream, is another one’s nightmare

And now here we are,

Right there hoping that someone else at ground zero can control the damage

 But back in ‘73 Alice Childress told me

That "A Hero Ain't Nothing But A Sandwich"

My People...

 See... my people are as delicate as we are resilient

We are as beautiful as we are brilliant

Settling for one in a million but, I know the math

And it is more like, one in just one over seven billion

That is over seven thousand times greater than we even believed

Imagine the new heights that we could achieve using out collective IQ's

Our whole would be so much greater than the sum of our parts

So we will always be smarter than just me and you

We’ve got to change the world view

That is seen through the eyes of our children in these ill times

 Because, the reality of how we really act

Is being revealed to them in real time

Got to fix it, while there is still time...

My People...



 

Lyrically Speaking: Memoirs Of A Reformed Rapper


"Alright Toto, you ain't in Kansas no more!" That was the pep talk that I got from one of the other performers, followed by "You're up after the next act”.

It was a performing arts showcase that I was invited to courtesy of my mother's sister, Aunt Elaine. Along with the performance, she was also responsible for me having an opportunity to record some of my lyrics on a new song with an up and coming singer (and practically family) named Russell, who was also being featured in the showcase. Elaine is so much more to me than just a relative. She is my inspiration! My aunt was always an extremely talented singer that was so focused on her dream to become an opera singer that it became her identity. She will always be my Aunt Elaine, the opera singer. She left our home town of Greensboro, NC immediately after high school and moved to New York having a very successful singing career. I even got to see her perform once in "Porgy and Bess" at the New York Metropolitan Opera. Seeing her on that stage changed my life.

           This would be my first time on stage in front of her or any other family members for that matter.  It was my big, New York debut... And I was ready!  Well at least I thought I was, until he came back waving a clipboard, saying "scratch that you're next". That's when reality came into full focus like some horror movie effect. I think that I maintained my composure, but my self-awareness was being viciously attacked by thoughts like... "What are you doing?  You’re just some street rapper from the south and these people are all from the School of the Arts! They're performing monologues and expressive dance routines! There's not even another rapper out here! And on top of all of that, you're performing without any music! You've never done anything like this".

          My mental meltdown was rapidly approaching overload. That's when it happened, a tap on the shoulder, a couple of words "you're up", and then… the silence. I could see the audience going crazy for the finale. They were singing and dancing right along with the girl on stage while she was singing some show tune, but I didn't hear any of it. The lights were flashing in sync with the beat and it felt like the whole building was literally jumping. I couldn't hear anything except my heart beating loud enough to drown out the entire state of New York!

          I stood a few feet behind the DJ on the second floor platform that was being used as a stage. I watched the young lady walk down the steps and be engulfed by the crowd downstairs. The music stopped and the DJ introduced me to a club full of people who looked like they couldn't possibly care any less. The sea of mixed conversations below was louder than the DJ, so I was sure that nobody was going to pay me any attention, but when the lights went down there was the most deafening silence that I had ever experienced. The spotlight came on with a click and a buzz and they were all waiting for me to break the awkward silence, so I did. I reintroduced myself as a poet from Greensboro, North Carolina and instantly went on, what I call auto-pilot.

 

"I took a shot of reality

And chased it with sorrow

Smokin' the ol' days

Laced with no tomorrow

Gotta childhood I can borrow?

Mine is missin'

An infant tried as an adult

Sentenced to mental prison..."

 

          The good thing about auto-pilot is that it's effortless. The words are there and they just flow. The bad thing about it, is that it gives you time to see the individual faces, see each expression. That wonderful and energetic crowd had been replaced by expressionless, emotionless mannequins. I truly thought that I was just draining the life out of the crowd, one word at a time. No smiles, no cheers, no pulse, just one blank stare after another. It was absolutely excruciating!  All I wanted to do was finish my song and find a rock to go crawl under. My original plan was to do two of the songs three verses, but that was out of the question. So, I decided mid-verse, to stop at the end of the first verse. Finally, after what felt like two eternities, I was almost finished.

 

"...’Cause we've been trained to hate ourselves

And degrade ourselves

Hell, we even sedate ourselves

So, we got to get it straight ourselves

Got a date with fate

To emancipate ourselves"

"Thank you"

 

 

          I was almost running to get off of that stage and away from that soul exposing spotlight. I had never felt so defeated. I was too humiliated to even look at the DJ when I gave him the microphone. Head down, and tail tucked between my legs, I turned to face the crowd and start my descent of despair down the stairs. To say that I was unprepared for the explosion of applause and immediate attention that I was receiving would be the understatement of a lifetime! I was genuinely startled by the reaction. The DJ, who I had never met before that day, grabbed me like we were long lost brothers. The other performers that had been behind me, backstage, were now crowded around me on stage, almost lining up to personally respond to what I had said! That was nothing compared to the growing mass of people waiting for me at the bottom of the steps!

The intensity was electric! I made my way through the crowd as quickly as I could. I had to get to my aunt. I needed to see something real and normal, because this was not my normal life. A few minutes earlier I had mentally accepted the kind of defeat that made me want to go home. Not “home”, as in the apartment in Philadelphia that I had been in for 3 years, but “home” as in North Carolina…hold on to grandma's arm and make it all go away, “home”. To go from that isolating feeling of failure, to feeling absolutely invincible in a matter of a few moments was emotionally overwhelming. Finally, I saw Elaine, standing beside her seat. The hug that I got from her was exactly what I needed. I could tell that she had been crying. She looked at me and said that writing and performing my poetry, was exactly what I was born to do. To hear her say that was better than all of the other compliments and praises combined.

 I had always considered myself as being just a rapper, but on that night, in that nightclub, I was so much more. I was a performer, a poet, and most importantly, I was a writer! I had earned the respect of some of the most artistic and talented minds from around the world. Being a "street" or "gangster" rapper usually involved a lot of aggression, whether it was in your lyrics or your demeanor. This atmosphere was nothing like that. It wasn't about how violent you could be or how much trash you could talk. It was about how intelligent you could be and how eloquently you could deliver your message.

          We eventually left the club and headed back across the Hudson River to where Elaine lived in Weehawken, NJ. I remember riding through the Greenwich Village area and seeing the "Artsy" Village crowd, wondering if I'd ever be back. I've visited Elaine since then, but I haven't performed in New York again. Who knows what the future holds? I would like to think that I will always be a writer and performer…but just for the record (pardon the pun); I am and will forever be a street rapper at heart, just more mature and socially aware. I guess you can say that I am a reformed rapper… well, lyrically speaking...

The end...for now...


© 2018 M. Barham


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Added on January 15, 2015
Last Updated on November 14, 2018
Tags: Lyrically Speaking, Ghetto Games, divinepower365


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A Poem by M. Barham


Now I Know Now I Know

A Poem by M. Barham