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i am the dissident poetician...i tear down fences with sardonic sardines and metaphysical cucumbers

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

HUSTLER'S LAMENT

Everybody wants to be a gangster, street-wise hoodlum hustler, but nobody thinks of the ramifications
Ultimate test of every tough solider, when cunts come to bust ya door down looking for the narcotics’ location
Bitter sweet taste or another flavour, for all your life’s failures, even the most battle-hardened fall weak sometimes
Not all tough guys can tolerate rough rides, twisting out their insides, while carrying out the bloodiest of all crimes
Slamming people’s heads into the hard ground, gone too far this time round, soon bodies to be surrounded by chalk outlines
Real G’s do this sort of thing all the time, yet it plays on their minds, no solace from the brutality can they find
The only reality that they know, same place they always go, always wind up at the same old destination
So violence becomes a normal belief, like theft is for a thief, this gig ain’t no game or summer time vacation
It’s real and so real people get caught up in it when fault lines erupt, for every chosen action, an equal reaction
Families stuck in the crossfire of thug-like desires, no peaceful solution found for warring factions

So you may think yourself tough but being a hustler can be rough
Think you’ll get heaps of muff and that the good times will always last
But it’s not all it’s cut out to be in a scene so riddled with disease
After you’ve seen all there is you see, you’ll be pleading “let me out please”

So you think hustling is a fun game, well, things remain the same, more or less, give or take, to tell the honest truth
Soon you’ll be feeling the same old sharp pains, while passing on the blame, it’s a test, real or fake, how you fucked up your youth
The endless racking you’re forced to do, before you face the truth of the matter, illusions now shattered
All the back stabbing from your own crew, anger through the roof, the heat of beer batter, delusions sent scattered
The hustle ain’t much fun after all, get up, then you fall, like everybody else, you take your place in the heap
Doesn’t matter if you’re short or tall, we’ve all got our flaws, the seeds you sow in the scene are what you shall reap
Nobody likes dishonest arseholes, after only one goal, answering the pleasure zone, instead of all else
Slimy lowlifes who have sold their souls for one big pot of gold, beholden to satan’s call, after only top shelf
Though it’s a lawless world, rules exist, don’t you dare run the risk of getting your fingers chopped off, sent to you in the mail
Receiving end, a barrage of fists, just how hard you’ll be hit, regretting you were born, the day the whole fleet sets sail

So you may think yourself tough but being a hustler can be rough
Think you’ll get heaps of muff and that the good times will always last
But it’s not all it’s cut out to be in a scene so riddled with disease
After you’ve seen all there is you see, you’ll be pleading “let me out please”

Do you think you have the guts it takes, stand out from all the fakes, wannabes talk it up when they’ve achieved nothing
Just give up for everyone else’s sake, your pride is what’s at stake, you embarrass yourself every time you begin
To act tough, like you’re all that in front of other try hard cunts, onlookers hardly shocked at the lame arse parade
A small fry in a world of giants, you act all defiant, when called on your naff shit, same record overplayed
The saddest hustler under the sun, soft as a hot dog bun, heard the same shit so many times I’m getting bored
No, you could never stab anyone, better off on the run, you’ve run so far you’ll win the Forrest Gump award
When you finally get caught for it, doing that devious shit, you shall meet your maker when it’s time to show some form
What would you do when locked up inside, with only time to bide? Would you be all afraid, concede defeat, all forlorn?
Tough nut fa├žade reduced to putty, no time to feel sorry for the great big mess you find yourself in tough guy
Say goodbye to all the bling and money, also no more pussy, in this big boy’s playground, only the brave do survive

So you may think yourself tough but being a hustler can be rough
Think you’ll get heaps of muff and that the good times will always last
But it’s not all it’s cut out to be in a scene so riddled with disease
After you’ve seen all there is you see, you’ll be pleading “let me out please”

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