A King Beyond The Streets

A long winter wool coat draped down to the flo. Tommy broom sticks concealed within ready to blow. You have made a noise loud enough to make the whole city know. Never step in the way of him in black coat.

Dazed… 

Staring at what you left under the rug. Fast cars like stage coaches. Chased while galloping through the hood. A man with absolutely nothing to lose and no cards to fold. Behind the steering wheel of a pitch fork. All bathed in dripping gold.

This is the only man who can turn a bad Avenue or Blvd block into a quiet safe zone. Without swinging nickel plated frustrated enders of life’s splinters. That needs taking out as quick as word of mouth.

Moving around like drug currency from the south to the north. To the north to the south. The bait car moving up from the south to the north and back to the south for more. The man was made of pure organization and trained thought by core.

He is the only man left in the city with pure heart and never bending a knee to any.

He is a hybrid of anarchy with in hybernation that can wake when tried of patience.

He is just a man…

A human…

Embracing The Footsteps Of A Royal Bloodline

Hood royalty…

I had to find my feet. Match up with defeat as a youngster. Fight after fight after fight. I was a small child. Losing every fight horribly. No matter how scared, beaten and brused I got right back up and moved on. Later on in life I would find out that I was litterally the golden child of a royal hood family. Everybody knew my family but me.

A strong respect was formed some years ago by my family in the city and prison systems. Earned by paying dues from actions of pure strength, inteligence and power. When I grew to my teenage years I could see the staring of people in the block and Damn near every where I went. I could even here some of there words. I ain’t going to lie. I felt like a young Hollywood star.

Every older person knew me before I even knew myself and what I was capable of. When I had advanced to my late teenage years to my early twenties. Most of my royal family were incarcerated, on the run from authorities, strung out on dope or just plain old vision out of sight. I got older and realized that I wasn’t young no more. I’ve gotten way bigger and way more aggressive and thorough never losing fights anymore. Truthfully no loses taken. No matter what weapons or weak strategies that were used by my foes.

I ran with… Stood up to the worst of the worst till everyone respected my very presents. I felt like the Prince of my kingdom. It was then when I found out who I really was. A warrior!

A true warrior with the bloodline of famous men. Real stand up brick wall sculptures of hood royalty. There statues still remain till this day. No one in the city could ever surpass them no matter how much work they put in…..

Always debonair

EVERYDAY YOU
WALK OUT THAT
HOUSE YOU
BETTER LOOK
LIKE SOMEBODY!

For real…
Because there is
no one on the
planet like you.

So make an
impression that
will permanently
brand your image
into.

Someone’s
mind for a long
period of time.

You better shine
like a dime.

Stay
sharp like
Street art.

Premeditate your
Own style…

Like a well
planned crime…

Kill’em with style.
create a crime scene
of beauty.

Handsomeness…

leave their minds in
ooooowwws an
ahwwwws.

Women or man…
Man or women…

You are someone…
You’re thee sun…
Attractive…
Hard to look
Away from…

Your taste…

Style is of your
own.. and

Those eyes of
anothers..

You…

Will…

Own…

You…

Better…

Believe…

It…