I believe that there is a heaven for a G. I mean it’s got to be. From being born and growing up in the projects, to the consequences of the unfortunate lifestyle, and from all the crazy thoughts and pain going on in the heads of all these young African American, Mexican American, Asian American, brothas and sistas and as society calls them “MINORITIES”, I believe there’s a heaven for a G.
Public housing is defined on www.thefreedictionary.com as housing that is built, operated, and owned by a government and that is typically provided at nominal rent to the needy. In the hood and to this “ NEEDY” community we call it the Bricks or the projects.
Growing up in the bricks is obviously a lot different than growing up in “The Normal Neighborhood”, growing up in a house in a low-income community is a lot different than growing up in “The Normal Neighborhood”. I believe that’s why we call the hood the hood because like we only get half the word we only get half the definition. Yes we have a roof over our heads and schools around, but we don’t have the security, safeness, and satisfactory schools that they have in “The Normal Neighborhood”. I believe that at birth I did nothing to deserve this standard of living, I believe not any of us did we just got caught being in the wrong womb at the wrong time.
I believe being born into poverty and low standards of living creates gangsters because rough living teaches you to survive, and that’s all that young brotha is that’s sitting on death row at age nineteen, that’s all that young brotha is that you see hustling on the street corner, and that’s all that young brotha was trying to be that’s laying in his grave at age 14 from a deadly car crash, a survivor. I believe that every survivor is innocent and all that die young should live. I feel for my peers that are locked up, I feel for the mothers and fathers and family of the dead children. I believe we all should feel for them. I believe the consequences of this lifestyle are unjust, unfair, and just wrong.
I believe that public housing, poverty, and the thuglife not only have an effect on your well being but also on your mind. Really as young as we grow up way to fast, seeing your friend in a coffin, going through pregnancy struggles, sittin in a cell for life, or you yourself going through it under 20 can drive you crazy. These kind of things really make life hell. I believe we shouldn’t ask why though. I believe we wouldn’t ask why a rose that grew from the concrete for has damaged petals, in turn, we would all celebrate its tenacity, we would all love its will to reach the sun, well, we are the roses, this is the concrete and these are our damaged petals, don’t ask why, thank god, to be alive (2pac Shakur).
To all my brothas sittin in these inhumane cells for life or on death row, to all my sistas that are pregnant at a young age and the baby daddy is locked up or just not there, and to all the mothers and fathers whose kids fell victim to the streets I feel ya trust me I feel ya. As Tupac said “If we can make it through the night there’s a brighter day”. I believe our brighter day is in the afterlife homies because this right here aint bright at all. RIP CM. I believe there’s a heaven for a G.
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