Me vs Them

What it look like good folk out there? I'm back kinda quick huh? I know, just tryna keep feedin y'all in hopes of expanding my readership(so spread the word...but read the post first). Yo I just copped this Ryan Leslie album. This joint is definitely official. He takes from a bunch of different successful formulas(John Legend, Pharrell, The Dream) and makes it work for him. Two square thumbs up. My youngest son finally stopped frontin on Butterbear and let her see him walk. Mind you he's been walkin for like a month and change. Lol. My car got some body damage I gotta pay for. I'm pissed. Also I feel like shit driving it...its all clean and sparkly and the rear bumper is on the gangsta lean. *cues Boots Riley* my car is better than yo shoes though. If you in the Philly area and know a good body shop holla @ me. Aiight now for the post. Shall we...

So me vs them. What an ominous title. But it was prompted by an experience I had on the train today. So I get on geekin about my new cd. I take my seat in the back behind these 2 black males probably in the 30-35 year old range. Both lookin rather thuggish but in that way that makes you think they are clearing decent bread from whatever hustle they are involved in. The one guy that I was directly behind paid me no mind as I flipped through my comic. The other seated across the aisle checked me out, probably more out of habit and respect for his trade than any real interest in me personally.

At this point I overhear the tall tales of a mutual friend of theirs named "Shiz". Apparently this Shiz character was a local maniac that has killed and robbed several people, and is currently serving life in the state pen for killing his babymama, along with a car full of other people(Philly residents will remember this story from last year). The story didn't bother me as much as how it was told. The guy that had just eyeballed me spoke of this psychos exploits in such a gushing manner. All except the killing of the baby and the babymom. Apperently this was wrong. Lol. I looked up and our eyes locked for a second time. My disgust dissolved into curiosity. His giddiness giving way to shame. The difference between us suddenly quite clear. I filled with fear. Not OF this man. But for him. For all of us. I sensed a degree of respect coming from him. Respect more for what I'm not than what I am.

The feeling wasn't mutual. I have friends that have been involved in street shit. I even have a homie that did a short bid. Short being an extremely subjective term, as I wasn't the one in prison. He has shared a lot of street tales with me. Unless it has to do with a fly girl he bagged, the stored are spit out of his mouth like sour milk. He's a changed man. Wants more from life than street glory and a long jail sentence. I respect THAT.

I make no bones about it. I'm a fuckin square. I'm not street in the least. I don't knock those that are, but that's just not me. I'm from the same gutters, seen the same shit. I chose to go left. Out of both fear and necessity. Someone has to represent the other side. I mean we can't all be Shiz. Ya dig?

I'm out.