It Ain't Easy

I'm back to writing with the hope of earning ”points” to get me out of this cage.

To start, I got all four baby-mommas visiting and holding me down with weekly packages. The Rona slowed down visits and packages, but these girls are soldiers. One is working with a group of women that looks out for my kids and me. All are hell-raisers, so I'm good.

Met with my counselor, who is always talking that shit about being responsible and hitting me hard about consequences if I don't change. I can't lie. He tells me what a nigga need to hear that hits hard, but damn, a nigga hurting in here.

Yesterday, my man hit me with the lyrics from one of Tupac’s rap,” It Ain’t Easy.” Each line is real as a fuck, I didn't realize the skill of this nigga. The radio hype this dude up as a ghetto gangster. A man who did not care about himself or his family.

I started reading each line and will begin using each line to explain who I am.

I can't sleep, niggas plottin’ on me, kill me while I’m dreaming. Wake up sweaty and screaming ’Cause I can hear them suckers schemin’ Probably paranoid, problem is them punks fantasizing” (Tupac, 1995).

Whoa, a nigga can relate to being caged with hole-lotta niggas on Rikers Island. Not only am I laid up here with my soldiers from the block, but my father. I told y'all last month; dude sent the “opps” at me. Since then, ”It Ain't Easy.”

I have not sent the word to turn-up because he is blood, but this shit makes a nigga seem weak. I don't even know, dude, but damn, emotions are high. Yet, the word as to whom I am and how I move seems sus.

I wonder why this the way it is, even now

Looking out for these killer kids, cause they wild” (Tupac, 1995).

Yeah, that’s it, my kids, my soldiers. Every man needs a daddy, leader, and that’s me. “It Ain’t Easy,” but someone gotta do it.

I’m out

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