by VaShon J. Brown

Our black brothas, with the exception of some black sistas,
Are the subjects of NiggaHood,
A state of mind that's overrun by lies, deception,
And making them no good;
They can't be given any worthwhile trust
Because their lives are being destroyed by
Sex, violence, drugs, and lust;
They can't settle down with a lady
That has her life to share,
Because he's a nigga, so why would he care?
It's an undesigned pattern
That our brothas are following today,
They are losing their purpose
And they are losing their way_
Out of this NiggaHood mentality,
They can't escape,
A harsh, cold-blooded reality
A victim of spiritual and mental rape;

They bypass the road to peace, stability
Honor, and loyalty,
And have rejected
The black queen's majestic crown of royalty;
Our brothas, my brothas,
Are becoming lost souls,
With no direction, guidance,
Future, or goals;
Their existence is evident_
Could be prevalent,
But some niggas don't even think about
Where their eternity will be spent;

They are walking away
From their reasons for being_
What God has made them for and
Keeping their 3rd eye from seeing_
Their possibilities, capabilities, responsibilities,
And their rightful duties_
As a priest, provider, and their nature
To protect,
Never realizing to every cause
There is an effect_they often neglect_
Their children and wives,
And other relevant people
In their unproductive lives;

Some of our brothas who have been left
Fatherless as a child,
Are deeply wounded and have
Taken on the nigga lifestyle;
Brothahood awaits them
With fists held to the sky,
Acknowledging strength, power,
Dominion, and the belief in the Most High;
Living righteously,
Just might be the only key
To embrace life as a black man totally;

Misconceptions have been made
And foundations have been laid,
And it seems that our brothas are
Ungrateful for the price that our ancestors have paid;
Our foremothers and forefathers
Paid the ultimate cost,
But unfortunately
Our brothas souls are still very lost_
In a world where women, money, and power
Gives a false sense of pleasure and happiness,
Where less becomes more
Until there's only emptiness;

Sistas stand by niggas
While they take us for granted,
But niggas have dug into our spirit so deeply
That they have uprooted what had been planted_
That seed that was destined to grow_
Into something beautiful
But niggas can't seem to show_
Their true feelings and emotions,
Ducking and dodging
From commitments and devotion_
Afraid their platinum playa card will expire
And will succumb to
Real love and desire;

It's time for brothas to wake up
And value their lives for what they are worth,
Before your soul leaves for peace
That can't be found on this Earth;
Open up your dense, ignorant eyes
And become liberated
And de"nigga"tized;
A nigga is confused
And the prerogative to change is his,
They have the desire to undo their perplexed minds_
But you know how niggas is_

Our brothas, my beautiful black brothas
Are complex and so misunderstood,
Turn away from ignorance and escape from

NiggaHood by VaShon J. Brown

© Copyright 2002. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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