Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mark Sep 2019
When it's all going smooth, you're talking millions weekly
JC is on his way, to pick up bundles of illicit US drug money
Trouble is getting it back to Mexico and depositing in the banking secretly  
There are members of the cartel, that have anywhere up to $300 million, pure honey.


Just sitting idle in their houses and they can't spend or use of it, not even a bit
Once you've gone into partnership with the cartels
You're only handling their money or changing it
You can't leave, they'll find you, kidnap your family and Fedex them back as parcels
They tell you "you have to do this"
If not, they will **** you and they don't ever miss.


Here is the money. What do I with it then?
I get 5 ID's and I'm going to the currency exchange to change the dollars again
You always have to give $200 to the cashier, which we put in here
She logs into the system and records the transactions, that appear
Just as though they were made by tourists
Then we pass them onto our cartel bosses, who are very near us.


The cash is now laundered and its origin erased
They can deposit their money, which is now clean into Pesos, that can't be traced
But this cash started its journey 3,000 miles away
One of the biggest narco distribution hubs in America, I'd say
The windy cities railway, port and interstate highway systems, are the best
Making it the ideal location, distributing Dope and Cash from across the Midwest.


Approximately 70% of the US population lives within a day's drive of Chicago
The Southside is where a lot of the business gets done, just like in Eldorado  
Every deal is a drop in the bucket, that contributes to a mighty river of cash
Chicago has over 70 gangs, with up to 150,000 members, who are all smoking hash
Making it the largest and badest gang capital of the America’
Handling the retail, an army of local gangbangers we call the Drug Gangsta's.
Mark Sep 2019
Yo, word up with you, my drug running mule  
It'll cost $30.00 ok? I've got it right here, so don't drool  
Put that **** in your mouth, too *****  
Yo get bumped with that ****, yo aren't gonna get any Cuban cigar  
Done, another bag of crack, sold  
Be on ya way, you've been told  
 
I'm Skillet and I'm 19, I've been doing this ****, since I was 15, man  
You've gotta feed yourself, 'cos nobody else going to be able to do it, like I can  
We grew up without mothers and fathers around us, do you feel me?
You've got to be your own father figure and steal, you see  
Get your own money out here, however you like  
'Cos no one's gonna to give it to you, not even brother Mike  
  
I get crack on credit, and sell it for $10.00 a rock  
After a long day of moving product, back at the trap house, we use a big lock  
The real work begins, splitting the take. 1st up, the crew take their cut  
Between the 3 of us, we're gonna split a $400 profit, off the ounce  
It works out at about $13.00 an hour, not bad for a daily rut  
We count on volume to make ends meet, for me and my louts  
 
It's not too much, but it's about the quick flip  
We aren't really thinking about making too much money, it's just a real trip  
We're worried about getting it in and getting it off  
So we can stay with it, you feel me you toff?  
The rest of the cash goes up the chain, to the crews drug supplier  
He's a regional distributor, that works with the cartel, it's a no brainer  
  
You have to pay him or you'll be six feet under, you'll be smoke man  
******* smoking for that account man and his Mexican clan  
Where we're from you've gotta keep it with you, not he  
Or somebody will run in your trap or something, you feel me?  
In 2014 there were over 2,500 shootings in Chicagoland  
Everybody out here are either thirsty, robbers, killers or Alice in ******* wonderland  
 
You gotta keep your eyes open for the haters, you might see  
They'll try and take you down, 'cos they ain't eating, you feel me?  
It's all out war everywhere, except ******* communist North Vietnam  
That's why we call it Chiraq, because it's so ****** up over here, ****  
You don't know where it's coming from, man  
Your ***** would cross you for a couple of bucks  
That's how it is, yo gotta keep your pistol close, even when you call the ******* waiter  
If not, ya gonna get got, much sooner, than later.  
 
Skillets homeboy Breeze, is always ready with a gun  
He's had plenty of practice and not just for fun  
I use this all the time. ****, if I had to swap with someone, that belong  
**** be getting hot, you can't keep the hot ones for too long  
There's my baby though, as McDonalds say, 'I'm loving it'  
All we need is that money, man, that's all we care about and ***** ****.
Mark Sep 2019
Yes, I am your chosen kingpin
My Hollywood name is Mr. La La
I don't need to listen to ****
Because all ya barber is blah blah
I take whatever hood rat that want to come
Just don't try and steal my hard earned bling bling

You're so friggin dope. Well thank ya my beloved sister girly
You remind me of an ex Brady, she too was a ***** little birdie
Come into my crib and I shall show ya the best time
Grab a smoke and choke on that hot ***, it won't cost ya a dime

Ride by done while on kids bicycles are just so insane, it seems
Leaves images I witnessed, carved into my crazy nightly dreams
The wild streets aren't designed for everybody out there, but me
That's why they invented plain old grey sidewalks, for free

I feel totally naked without it, I'm not a bad **** ***** turtle
That's what my momma once said, but even I'm shell shocked, can ya tell?
But what you see, is what it really means, or so it should
So yes! It's good to be the king of the whole **** hood

One day I spilt the beans on some loyal corner crew boys
I told the popo, I know that's so lo lo, but they killed using one of my toys
If your not encouraged in life as a child, like most of us
You'll always be in a cage as an adult, so what's the big fuss?

Attacking Mr. La La's crib and forced his family out, without a touch of doubt
Nobody likes a smelly snitch, for they will be hunted down and blacked out
They chose a new leader of the team and told him, you better be able to cope
But he was a brother who never really new how to tie up all the loose rope

I came on back and killed the whole **** hood
A true gangsta has pride and does what he should
I just rode on by in my sleek black low riding convertible Jaguar cat
Shot up and even sliced up all those former ****** of mine, and that's that.
Mark Sep 2019
When it's all going smooth, you're talking millions weekly
JC is on his way, to pick up bundles of illicit US drug money
Trouble is getting it back to Mexico and depositing it into a bank, secretly
There are members of the cartel, that have anywhere up to $300 million, pure honey.


Just sitting idle in their houses and they can't spend or use of it, not even a bit
Once you've gone into partnership with the cartels
You're only handling their money or changing it
You can't leave, they'll find you, kidnap your family and Fedex them back as parcels
They tell you "You have to do this"
If not, they will **** you and they don't ever miss.


Here is the money. What do I with it then?
I get 5 ID's and I'm going to the currency exchange, to change the dollars again
You always have to give $200 to the cashier, which we put in here
She logs into the system and records the transactions, that appear
Just as though they were made by tourists
Then we pass them onto our cartel bosses, who are very near us.


The cash is now laundered and its origin erased
They can deposit their money, which is now clean, into Pesos that can't be traced
But this cash started its journey 3,000 miles away
One of the biggest narco distribution hubs in America, I'd say
The windy cities railway, port and interstate highway systems, are the best
Making it the ideal location, distributing dope and cash from across the Midwest.


Approximately 70% of the US population, lives within a day's drive of Chicago
The Southside is where a lot of the business gets done, just like in El Dorado
Every deal is a drop in the bucket, that contributes to a mighty river of cash
Chicago has over 70 gangs, with up to 150,000 members, who are all smoking hash
Making it the largest and badest gang capital of America
Handling the retail, an army of local gangbangers, we call the Drug Gangsta’s.
Mark Sep 2019
Channelling Nostradamus from the sixteenth century
Did you see what you just wrote
Or did you just dream what we see?
When your prophecies come true
I'll say, You only had one view
So good luck to you and your future note
One shan't believe from an invisible visionary

When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring

The ******* ***** always seems to wear lingerie
That always looks, just a little ******
But never ever, do they slavishly try
To imitate their true identity or culture
Not like those Kardashian dogs, that dress up
Always trying to stylise society, for a very large fee
Speaking of canines, where's that poodle named Paris
She had some real talent, didn't she?

When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring

I wish upon a **** star of mine
Whilst screaming up to ones heaven
Most pussycats lives, end in about nine
But my time was all over, within almost seven
Maybe I really could, make it all alone
On this place god calls, my extraordinary rendition?
Or shall I live this false life, as some sort of robotic clone
Not truly knowing oneself, therefore, failing my own audition?

When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring

Well, just get back on that bronco horse, named Toff
Dust off that hat, once worn by certain gent
For they will forever try and attempt to buck you off
You the rider, of this very serious event
So, forget about the fame and good times
and the overhyped lives of most Hollywood stars
Live within your means and save your silver dimes
In your half empty or half full, glass money jars

When I wish upon a **** star
It makes me appreciate who we are
Everything that she'll be requiring
I'll think about you and make it inspiring

When I wish upon a **** star
My dreams start to become truth by far.
Mark Sep 2019
As the gangsta dies
On a hot and humid Florida mornin'
A poor grievin' young wife is torn
This is ghetto
And his crew cries
Because if there's one thing that they don't need
It's another corner boy to bleed
This is ghetto

Society, don't you understand
The hood needs a helping hand
Or they'll grow to be all angry young men one day
Take a look at them and me,
Are we too black to see,
Do we simply shut our mouths
And speak in another way

While the hood rolls
And an inspired young boy with a funny jive
Deals on the corner as he collects high fives
This is ghetto

And his crib burns
So he starts to scare the folks with fright
And he teaches how to deal
And he teaches how to bite
This is ghetto

Then one night in conversation
A young rat screams out loud
She buys a toy, steals a heart,
Tries for fun, but it won't even start
Then her man tries

As the crew gathers 'round a stupid young ***
Face down in the pillow with a ***** in her ******
This is ghetto

As the neighbourhood sighs
On a hot and humid Florida mornin'
Another poor grievin' young wife is torn
This is ghetto
Thunder rolled deeply on the morning as the baby boy arrived,
his father typically absent  his mother she wasn't surprised.
Early days were troublesome for a single mother to provide  
a home, somewhere that was safe and retain some dignity and pride.
The child grew in hardship, in his mother's eyes he saw inner pain,
he often heard his mother weeping and hang her head in shame.

They survived, and into an average youth he learned and he grew,
not so different  to others because, his dad, he never knew.
Early teens, he began leaving his concerned mother home alone,
with bravado hanging around places, with kids he didn't know,
from their dark influences, tricks he learnt well, in guile he was trained,
powerless to change his ways, his  mother hangs her head in shame.

Attitudes hardened, he became devious, now almost a man,
so involved he became leader of his own pointless, wilful gang.
One night attempting thievery from a store, they almost were caught,
it's not their manor, they can't avoid the local gang, so they fought,
midst fists - kicks - shouts most ran, but he was pinned against an alley wall
scared, choking, grabbed a bottle from a bin and made that bottle fall
mindlessly, again - again, smashing down on his opponent's head,
fleeing the from the scene, doesn't know the man on the ground is, dead.
his gang has gone, his escape is now blocked by shadows of a group
open arms he walked toward them he's unsure of what he should do
he's encircled,  the streetlight reflects each drawn blades dull deadly flame,
and later that night, his mother hangs her head in grief and shame

Michael C Crowder
Hangs Her Head In Shame (rewrite of my 1978 song Samuel)
somewhat relevant in the UK these days
Northern Poet Jan 2019
Look at all these wannabe gangsters
Terrorising our streets
That one's wearing camouflage trousers
Just wait till you hear him speak
'Dems bear skills mate'
'Can you lend me fifty bar?'
He sounds like he's from Los Angeles
Doing time in the yard
But he's not
He still lives at home with his mum
And his pregnant girlfriend
And he's under the thumb
You see them outside Tesco
But they're not shopping for pesto
Let's go
They've seen the old bill
He's known around this town
For selling dodgy pills
Guns, knives and slang
That's what you need
If you wanna be in their gang
No education
Just a stolen Playstation
And don't forget the ****
Even on a school night
They're out doing speed
You'll see 'em in the park
With a bottle of cider
Then they'll start
On a poor old-timer
Tracky bottoms
And a Burberry hat
Chav fashion
Cause they think they're all that
But the funny thing is
They don't have a clue
They don't think like
Me or you
They think that they're rap stars
Dreaming of fast cars
But they're just wankers
More like 'wannabe gangsters'
In the Boondocks of the Ozarks
Salty caramel smelt of August
Swathes stench of rotten trailer parks
Imprisons barren mid-west dust

Feral fevered kids a hunting
For to cool; shoot up, or drink
Arthritic railroad; tie and shunting
Ferrous old town wretched on the brink

Since the cease of mine and logging
Depletion of iron lead and zinc
Nag horse too dead for flogging
Folks futures draining down the sink

Some respite in the summer heat
RV’s; tourists and campers for trails
Like blackfly plague pick off the meat
Fly fast; escape as another harvest fails

Dark currents pepper darker mood
Intolerance grinds in the daily way
Resentment bread as only food
At someone’s door the blame shall lay

In the graveyard of the Ozarks
Rednecks dance on industry tombs
Burn brown smoke spice. Moonshine sparks
Oblivion; no life. Back to mothers' womb

©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)
The sultry heat of an American Mid-West summer in a dying old mining community full of drugs, devoid of hope!
Homunculus Jul 2018
In African badlands,
the ravages of
famine starve
children daily.
In American ghettos,
African children
are given
guns and drugs,
and taught to make
war and profit,
or starve.
Next page