Ghetto GamesA Chapter by M. BarhamI 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 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 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 |