Only a Nigga

I look for inspiration, yet it’s a hopeless abyss. I search for motivation but I can only find an hourglass that’s run out of time. Show not tell is America that depicts images of the Black man that can’t but will tell him the same lie that he has to be patient. I’m easily mislead, soon stress overfills and I lose my head. I’m a nigga from the hood, so I know I’m no good, but I felt I should take a chance. As a nigga I should be satisfied with living in the jects’, in the violence, with the dealers, the scammers, yet they all I got their friends. And I’m just a nigga so I’m used to isolation. For example, my people can be crabs in a barrel, and I try and reach for an education and preach dedication, but the hood is a magnet and the poles pull me back cause at school I get around these white people and I’m dismissed, I’m shunned, existence ignored, but in a turbulent current my confidence is a life jacket that keeps me afloat. And I’m just a nigga so I’m nobody’s problem. They said “ solve ya fucking problems, fix it ya self, you’re a nigga, we don’t care” Being a nigga is no fun, I mean my history was erased by the slave trade that made me not respect myself. We hate on each other anyways while everyone else sits and laughs and points at the nigga plight. I’m a nigga so I’m a commodity, best I can offer to society is my dick, swinging like Tarzan from a tree, monkey, beast, white women coquettishly fiend, I’m her dream that she needs pleased. But nothing more, in her I bring out the whore, time for the door before her husband finds out. To her, I’m just a fucking nigger.. A wild one tamed just enough for her pleasure while her I should treasure Like I know I shouldn’t have. The white man will step on my neck, while I only can reply “yes sir, no sir” to command, how I’m posed’ to be a man when I come home to my wife and kids, shit I’m just a nigga this what I’m dealing with. I’m just a motherfucking nigger too, so I might hate on u, cause u made it out the hood like I wanted to!