Wanna B

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
We all know or have met someone that portrays this very image.

Submitted: June 25, 2010

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Submitted: June 25, 2010



Let me converse with you about a wanna b

You know the ones who glorify the street

And think their tough just because they pack heat

Uplifting the PJ’s better yet the hood

While yet a true hustler is merely misunderstood

A true hustler doesn’t brag about street life

And yet bring much strife

The reputation of the PJ’s and the hood is being let down

All because of these wanna b clowns

The difference between a true hustler and a wanna b

Is merely a wanna b is just that

Glorifying what they know not

Wanna b’s are not from the hood or the PJ’s

Their from suburbia or urban streets

And areas of town that’s rough they claim

Wanna b’s may have the dress down

And certain attitudes to match

But they need to be in Hollywood by the way they act

A true hustler is born of the streets

And can never be a wanna b

A wanna b praise life in the streets

And with the real they try to compete

Its origin was poverty now from all different walks

They way they dress, act and even talk

Pants sagging with loose shoes, big shirts and bandanas

This is the way they choose

Plats and dreads is the hair style

School boy cuts haven’t been around for a while

A true hustler has respect for himself

While a wanna b is only in for wealth

A true hustler sleeps in the street

And the wanna b goes home to a quiet community

A true hustler is educated in the streets

While a wanna b learns from TV

Everyday a wanna b hustler is intuitive

While in their mind a true hustler lives

A wanna b can never belong

For they only live in song

A true street hustler brings fear

To all those around and near

A last resort is the gat

A wanna b first at that

 A hustler is a thug by nature

A wanna b heart beats hatred

A true hustler means no harm

While the wanna b sets off alarms

Smooth with tactics is the hustler

A wanna b is just a busta

Hustling is not meant to be fun

It’s a job for the educated street one

A wanna b makes street life seem cool

Running around and acting like a fool

To the hustler that is on the grind everyday

Living life on the streets to get paid

The wanna b time is near the end

So fret not the wanna b my friend

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