A Message to the Little Big Man

Big up to all as the summer begins, I hope that the cookouts are without violence and block parties can be re-established in each and every community. Remember, water is better than kool-aid, and when the 4th comes, please let the fireworks kissing the sky be the ONLY thing fired in the air......

-DaChamp



Little Big Man

The Little Big man is not a gangster
Yet he rolls through hoods with gangsters and jack their swagger
Loses his touch with reality while his street fiction gathers
More niggas who share the same thoughts to overthrow the matter
that he was
Conceived by two parents who all share the same house
Yet constantly complains who is the MAN and what manhood is about
Where his 9 to 5 is trying to stay alive and gain clout
and his re-up is his minutes on his cell that's running out
Not from drug deals but from chicks he misled
and real thugs and gangsters that want his ass dead
or the kid who he never shot in the head
the little big man is not a gangster...

The little big man is not a gangster, but a clone who is born and raised one parent alone
Caught up in fast riches and half dressed women in which he greets as bitches while inhaling the green that allows him to zone
Looking up to and praising the black lex that circles the block as his home
while figuring ways to get next to and possibly take over the throne
Knowing that it would be forever to turn that 16th to an 8ball or a half o' to a pound
So he cuts corners just to get his neck above ground
Uses the math he learned for street gain but not too much for street cred
Can break down time spent in between State jail and Feds
The folks he calls fam now have a price on his head
Where tatted up groupies of the street are now his inbreds
The Little big man is not a gangster

The little big man is not a gangster
the hood finds this out the wrong way
a sunday
while in Church kids race outside doing relay
he's inside the Church cryin'
looking to the stained pic of Jesus testifyin'
alas he's had struggles on the streets just survivin'
when he could've stayed home instead of using home to hide in
mom's is just smilin'
trying to convince herself that jail revived him
only to take him home and see him turn on videos of those cats with those clothes who put in his mind that he was hot back then he suppose
that he should call his man and get the streets back
whoever want it get the click clack
convince moms to let him go spread his wings by doing things that he know that
just might end his life...
complains to that bitch of a baby's mother that she still ain't worthy of being his wife
although she gave the alibi which knocked his 5 years mando down to time served in 6 months
never talked behind his back once
but sho ass hell told him about the front
Who sat back and did all the raising and child rearing
all the while fearing that her man will never stop hearing
that he is not a gangsta
or even a wangster
Just a mixed up individual lost in the translation of life
where if you live by the gun you could still die by the knife
that energy he feeds the need to serve the block with rock
duck from hot pops from glocks and pressure from the cops
can all be stopped
upon realization that the life he's facing is one he created
because all the love he got in his past one he hated
yet he never forgot so that revatation was belated
and he can turn down the sounds in his head those bullshit statements
like shit is real yo'
when he's sees the black Lex he can spot that the tags are from a rental
instead of cloning create his own street stories via mixtape instrumental
while basking in the glory of a takeover of the mental
His own

Wake up...before it's too late.

I'm out yall be cool
DaChamp