I have been battered in bullets but my spirit remains unbroken. You should have seen the look in their eyes when I lay there looking at my own blood, it sparked curiosity because I really wondered at one point what my body with doing with all of it.
I am undisturbed and more than any neighborhood could make me, I was a part of this place but more than it.
I use to look at the hood straight on and now I bend my gaze and watch what is happening around me. They are part of their own circulatory system and their words are systematic.
I broke tradition, I was static and then I moved the h*ll out of there. I was in a new place and thanks to the bullet fragments on my left temple, I had a new face.
I was seeing things differently.
I am an urban survivor but more than that, I thrived -- I became something different. Im an urban poet.
I mastered this sh*t and now I see the world for all the beauty that it really is.