I write about dilapidated, segregated, and impregnated streets that give birth To pimps and poets Heroes and hookers Villains and love Black panthers and cancer Brown fists, the KKK, and even soul Train dancers I write about 1986 When hip hop beats were like kicks Erecting minds and rhymes Dissecting subjects, verbs, and predicates When learning to hold a mic Was a rapper’s etiquette We learned to play with poetry to Watch how wet she gets...

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