1.) tizzop introduced gangsta poetry february 2021
     no man ever before created a poetry genre alike
     gangsta poetry, robust melting *** of languages
     and ethnicities, as it reflects the united states

2.) the idols of gangsta poetry are rooted in the
      underworld, blacks, hispanics, italo- and irish-
      americans, asians, arabs, germans, kurds,
      yugos, albanians, afghans, northern-africans...

3.) multilingual are the core, heart and soul of
     a gangsta poem: glockz, rubix cubies, 31er
     salam, jebeš igru, habibis, brüder, fo' sho':
     rapid months, frozen silverfruit, whole ones

4.) every letter of gangsta poetry becomes the
     side effects of our brand's real-life greed and fury
      mourning the end of beloved baby mommas
      deaths caused by strayed bullets that vamoose

5.) gangsta poetry aims to be published among
      all ethnic communities of the 50 united states
      deadline 08/16/21 stresses american willpower
      gangsta poetry scandalously hits us's curriculas

6.) each of the 194 remaining countries is urged
     to promote and govern gangsta poetry for
     the neglected, weighted with glacial contempt
     these males and females discover their kind in us

7.) tizzop established a saying: "treat every being  
     with an open mind, but fight back, baby, if anyone
     disrespects you, the gps, or our hangarounds"
     at war, we remember our families before we blast

8.) bar none, each gangsta poet is free to connect
      affiliate and distribute with and for the gp's
      brothas and sistas -- gps create examples of
      social diversity and historical dimensions

9.) female gangsta poets are a quarter of us
      some keep it gal, united sisterhood, astute flow
      in memory of leery leyla, chalondra, kateyy,
      mountainbird, ivanka cociç, ashima abraham

10.) genderfree, gangsta poets are chosen
        undertakings composed by thugs & artists
        the spirit of a few meets strife of hood speech
        gp evolved from a movement to an own identity

11.) restrictions do not apply for written creation
        strategic outgrowth and unshaken cash flow
        gp embraces brainy ones, and our soldiers
        narrators in conspiracy, art nouveau trips

12.) gangsta poetry admires the following people:
        jeezy, killa cam, toni der assi, iron sal, dmx
        anton chigurh, sigmund freud, rashid stoogie
        larry hoover, elliot york hp, kevin of allpoetry

13.) taktloss, luis fonsi, blockmonsta, all bolivian
        and peruvian farmers, te amamos, our brothers
        187 strassenbande, senion mogilevich, nirvana
        john murphy, dem dudes alpha hotel frankfurt

14.) much love to all global units, poets, thieves
        traffic architects, hackers, true skippos
        german bakeries, all-black betting shops
        jews from brighton beach, hispanic halos

15.) benny da bandit, tony tarantula, gambino, brate
        hamza al-mighty, fat **** frank, jens, das brain
        fred merciless, familia escorpio, ruben and levi
        ali firefists, kimbo slice, scarface, oleksiy, dejan

16.) daim, loomit, dns 1up, **** my **** crew
        berlin kreuzberg 36ers, playboys hannover
        yard bird 1955, taki 183 n.y.c., basquiat, level
        dbl ffm-skychildren, bomber, city mission
    
17.) gangsta poetry overwhelmingly shaped by
       our ancestors who boosted the poetry of ages
       train bombers, rappers, trappers, taggers, cutters
       we descent from them, honor their names

18.) gangsta poets die for poems that struck
        gps, fans and critics in a possessive way
        limits of real talk and boasting are in flux
        trance batters the face of reason, at dusk


                                          *


Once upon a time at March 22nd, 2021
Kreuzberg SO 36, Berlin, Germany...
Dedicated to all Gangsta Poets Worldwide

Heaven and hell yeah, disciples outpace seconds
Greetings from Wondaland, a.k.a. The Magic City

every time i close my eyes, i stop existing
my existence consists of pregnant word shells
the eight sisters of forgetfulness remind me
the eight brothers of memories are forgetting me

in unity, they are driving the engine of myself
they are rooted somewhere in the unconscious
my will is made of soft wool and heavy iron
the contours of my existence form it daily

impregnated words are yelling at the real me
the silence of the morning created a wish
the longing to drift through reality like a river
but then i look into the eyes of my children

in them i recognize the value of human existence
they are beings who can laugh with their eyes  
my daughter's babbling is full of curiosness
in my son's curiosity i discover his quest

i open my eyes and i start to exist; i am

under the core of time, there's the beach of dreams
bathed by the water of wishes, attachments and fear
nothing can you bring to this place, it's all there
guarded by ancient creatures, made of clay and stone

everything a being knows will be forgotten there
all abilities and skills will be unlearned for good
misunderstandings will be solved, time stops ticking
the word "why" loses its function under the core of time

pearls of rain fall on the ground to stroke people
to redeem them from the arrogance of living on earth
and a mist of gold and light belts the sleeping ones
under the core of time, space becomes infinite and clear

a kingdom, where love shall be king and law, peaceful

isolation is a redly glowing wolf
it is too close to me, get away
how can i believe in myself?
the night swallows self-confidence

i am waiting for an angel sent by
the tall and wise heralds of my fate
they are riding the train of future
i don't know how to hop on, no clue

eden's sounds are distracting me
but in her eyes i can see where my train
is supposed to stop and to arrive
ancient existences are floodding her pupil

they stem from a place called nirvana
it is the deep core of a human being's soul
light suffuses their shape, goldly shining
they fight against the demons of our world

and as the years passing by, they become
our nostalgic memories and our sentiment
i want to be there for eden, protecting her
the red wolf will not come between us

in the middle of nirvana, ashima wakes up
she doesn't know how she reached this sphere
full of silver lights and black silhouettes
everyone she knows seems to be present

greyly shimmering leaflets are floating
through the air, gently, like mist
and red fireflies are clapping their wings
the crowd of shadows is starting to sing:

"ashima, you have come a long way to us
we are the voices of nirvana, listen
nirvana is the deep core of your soul
the land of your most secret wishes

sometimes, in your dreams, you reach out
when you are waiting for a train and the
rays of the sun are reflecting your thoughts
you never find us but we know where you are

you may call us your wishes, we belong to you
as ****, as branko and your mom do
are you the imitation of your dreams, ashima?
or do your dreams imitate you, our girl?

certainly, you will become the thing you dread
we know that you took revenge recently
when you were slashing the *******'s throat
as his blood was slowly flowing into the sheets"

in the middle of her apartment, ashima wakes up
she becomes aware of a crinkled and dark leaflet
it is more than twenty years old, informing about
something that ashima can not read anymore

the letters on the leaflet have become dust
ashima is taking a deep breath and sighs
her pitbull branko is strolling towards her
his wet tongue, ashima thinks, feels cute

**** the river, **** the river of oblivion
past lives are drifting beneath its surface
they are singing a hymn, in kids voices
this hymn was written by the thoughts of ancestors

a human being has more than 60.000 thoughts a day
the psychiatrist who told me that is chinese
i like her appearance, she's my type, sweetly dark
the memory of my poems is implanted into her brain

when the night becomes day, the sun swallows every word
its rays burn down all the letters of the past
and the past is nothing but the last word written
i want to take a bath in the ideal of love

this ideal is tattooed on a person special to me
i have to think of what alejandro said in sicario
a movie is never a movie but a collection of memories
no story will ever be written without experience

the observations of birds make up for a pool of poems
if these creatures could write, yet they sing their stories
every soul which existed on earth, comes back to it
sooner or later, gökhan, reyka, ama and alexander

i would have liked to meet my uncle but he died of an overdose
a man who hated him gave him poison and alex injected it
as a child, i would often look at his picture:
eyes wide open, wildly glowing, as if he was in a waking dream

tizz is love it or hate it, nuttin' in between
addicted to yayo like sheen, 500 bpm heartbeat
don't do it anymore, but remain psychotic
and hunt down idiotics like a carnivore

from florida to berlin, from tropic to toxic
deep in da game, da grimy streetz know my name
it'z tizzop, 14.8 inchez of hip-hop

hangin' at rashid'z, shisha ready, cuban necklace
three men in da back but ya don't know who it iz
all of 'em are dark-skinned, all of 'em are bearded
most important of all: all of 'em are fearless

we don't know what it meanz to be scared
just some migrantz who will now be heard
da territory split up: kurdz, arabz and turkz
we got our own law, like omerta, like da cosa

one apartment here, and one block' there
like bushido did, back in da dayz wit fler
sonny black carlo, godfatherz, yeeeah

power is about makin it and takin it, unlike nine said
unlike any other guy said, and if ya don't wanna buy it
find ya eyez in da wine-red, da choppaz are wild catz
ya can use them for da furiouz, some become notoriouz

otherz don't and die, but dey will be honored:
watch da muralz; urban networkz, also in da rural,
and five-o just remainz neutral; it is crucial to be brutal
as it iz to remain truthful; lyricistz can't deal wit diz
g-boy attitude of tizz: letz celebrate diversity
and ante up on google, i write barz and do diz
i'm a little too youthful for these oldskoolish