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.