Something "Untitled" that I wrote

I don't know if this is a poem or a verse....It may very well be both...but I had it on my mind...Let me know what you think....It's Untitled for the moment. Excuse the N.O. slang....I'll be happy to explain if questioned. The next blog will talk about my views on the subject matter of this very prose....So check it out!


By. Christopher "Cutta" Blount

Success is bitter sweet like the disappointing fact
That Katrina made you recognize my city's on the map
Or America was built off the backs of beaten blacks
We don't recognize our past so we don't know how to act
Don't believe these labels when they offer jewelery and stacks
Yeah, they may back your record but they never have your back
See, they buck you up
Tell you your the best on the come up
But streets be watching
Better wear a vest if they run up
Cause shit could get real
Like...
... if a brother playing...
And he say "Like A Man"
Before stating how he feel
And fists start flying, and you pulled out a nine
But he was bout that foolishness and had it on his mind
And now you lying dead
From bullet wounds, your ass kicked
Over something that you had said on track 6
Second line in your name, chain on your casket
All because you lived and died for this rap shit
Another great plot to fill a grave plot
Grow up and rise
Just to die in the same spot
It's planned
The tears and the money of the fans
Means cash only lands in record exec's hands
A waste
A statement says "He'll never be replaced"
But couple months wait
And they got a fresh face
And he comes from a place
With a higher murder rate
Let's put him on the block before his release date
Another cycle of hate and it don't seem right
But don't believe me
Look at the life of VL Mike

Don't believe me look at the life of VL Mike

Don't believe me.....

(Rest In Peace)