This is a song about "Hood poetry"

Fistful of wood, twisted for the good

But now your under a hood

So here i am at the store for some chips

With my militia poetry tactics

I could give a fuck as long as there’s something that’s behind of her

On poetry of rap i extended my forbidden knowledge further

Lyrical poetry, supposedly, my rhymes burst into a flame hopefully/

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree

I won't go out with my friends, instead i sit in my room and write poetry,

That's gon' make it hard to smile in the futurebut through whatever you see

To mcs that don't rhyme good

I'm chillin' in this hood

Im rappin poetry dude its time we got real

School ain't even start yet, there ain't not freaks here

Found a peaceful home with my poetry and music

Straight conch got a nigga feeling seasick, oh shit