The Hustler – Poem by Mario Vitale

yesterday we used to pray
today you say it ought not be that way
I was born in the gutter my mother was a whore
she sold her junk in the trunk in back of the liquor store
I was raised by my grandma Mable
feeding her dog underneath the table
back then as a young G living came most naturally
as the years would pass having every reason to grasp
those silly days of my youth with the loose tooth
shopping trips at the nearby mall
playing bat and ball at the end of my street
Pop Rocks those fancy socks eating candy with the dots
loose lips sinks ships took some time to move those hips
Went to high school thought I was way too cool
smoking weed listening to boom box with Scot Lerock
block parties that where it began the day I became a man
working on my tan selling dope down at the 8th Street Station
getting busted by the cops doing time
made a name for myself on the streets
The hustler was soon released had the best of suits but a noose around my neck
What the heck had to put things in check
Had my mind on my money but my money was gone
Until that day I went to church payed a visit with the savior
Now I get high with the Lord up in the sky
No fly by or getting shot in the eye
God is good to those who love & put him first
Most of my friends were in the back seat of a hearse
The moral of this dope joint is have faith in God
Forget about your good for nothing friends yet who are they anyway
Let us learn to stay humble everyday and bow the knee to pray
Couldn’t share my story any other way

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