What Has The Streets Gotten Me?

Pierre Shrapenel

A question I often ask myself, but not one of the answers I come up with seems to appeal to me.

Stab wounds in my back from old friends I thought were down for me, turns out they had trouble grasping the concept of fidelity. 

My soul’s been injured and my heart’s been broken irreparably. 

As I contemplate and reflect on my past, I can see nothing but absolute tragedy. 

I was only sixteen when the streets got a hold of me. 

Impressionable and foolish without parental guidance, it wasn’t long before I founded myself leading a life of crime and violence. 

At first, the ride was promising and smooth, then came the inevitable turbulence, and little did I know I was doomed. 

Being completely overtaken by the compelling incentive of chasing an utter successful affluent living, and I became oblivious to the immense danger of this pool of sheer ignorance that I was drowning in. 

The streets have done nothing but misled me, scarred me, and toyed with me. 

Dangled success in my face, then just as I’m about to grab it, pulled away and laughed at me. 

Taught me to project blame rather than assume accountability. 

And that I’d be considered less of a man if I’m ever to express any sense of humility. 

I think it’s safe to say it wanted me to self-destruct therefore provided me with all the right recipes. 

Believe me, in these streets, there are no cavalry. 

There’s no one coming to save you. 

You either wake up and find your own way out or eventually, you’ll become part of some terrible history. 

These streets are ruthless, cunning, cold, and heartless. 

The only good thing for me that came from being in the street was the penitentiary. 

Yes, I know upon hearing this you’re going to think I’m crazy. 

But allow me to elaborate Before you begin to judge me. 

You see, the streets had me convinced that being a delinquent was the real me. 

Arrogant and blind but no one was to tell me that I couldn't see. 

The penitentiary sat me down, taught me a different lesson, and helped me discover that there's a greater me. 

Provided me with the tools that would allow me to be freed from the real prison that I was in mentally. 

Make no mistake, I despise being incarcerated with every being every fiber every bone in my body. 

However, A wise man once observed that blessings often appear in the disguise of adversity and that much has been made clear to me because prison helped me break away from this false ideology that there is a shortcut to success and a cheat code to achieving something noteworthy. 

In the streets, I have wasted so much of my potential chasing a fantasy but no more! Because I'm tired of running into this brick wall! 

The penitentiary wisened me, opened my eyes, so to the streets I say; you can't trick me anymore. 

That young foolish kid you used to toy with, is now a young man with something to think with.  

I know that success without hard work Blood Sweat and Tears is only a figment of my imagination you had me believing was real for so many years. 

Wish I had discovered those tricks and lies way earlier about you because I regret all the pain and sorrow you had me put my mother through. 

Before I knew better I was devoted and in love with you. It's true. 

But as I become aware of your True nature I can honestly say now; I hate you! 

And I know the feeling is mutual. 

Turns out the streets doesn't love anybody. 

It just uses them and ruins their lives as usual. 

Oh, you don't believe me? 

Well, ladies and gentlemen, just take a good look at what the streets have gotten me.