The Byrd & The Bum

a-hot-ghetto-mess[2]

Get your bail money ready “Baby” you earned it.

You stay gassed and pass on electric. It’s cleaner.
Judgment day, guilty as phuck.
Served like a subpoena.

Bird brain, your cousin, bird-mane
Cram to understand. Over stand this…
It’s not a wedgie. Take your finger out your
bum and no it’s not a thong.

Seagulls flirtin with seaman
You should know better by now.
Can’t you c-man?

Catchin, spittin n swallowin wat he pitchin.
Byrd droppin, bricks walkin, feet smellin.
Pigeon toe. Ghetto Navaho.

Supa-star no matter where you are
Eatin burnt chicken on your mama’s roof, crunchin.
Together fo eva niccas happy. Uuh!

Honey was just a bird who moved to the ghetto suburbs and flipped a byrd When a nicca heard she was livin lovely…  Baby Girl was lonely wit a ugly heart and attracted what she projected,  girlfriend thought she was smart.

In the concrete jungle a bum azz nicca may enjoy the pickings of spring chicken in the hood. He’ll even perhaps fall in love with one or two beautiful birds while byrd watching in the park. From the East Coast to the West Coast and all ova the world, they’ll dress fly, smell good and a few may even taste delicious but nonetheless chicken is still chicken no matter how you bake, steam or fry it. Honey’s struggling but manages to live good in da hood. She’s a queen in her own mind but in reality she’s more like a ghetto sparrow sitting in a broken nest called home; chirping in the wind complaining about having a Bum Azz Nicca for a man.

Stage left enters Birds best friend: The Bum Azz Nicca. He’s ziggin and zaggin and call it swagin. You know him. He’s that dude I mean your dude who sits home all day, everyday, doing nothing but scratch is arse then picks his nose and eats it when nobody’s lookin. Breathe stinkin, video game playin, got dat white stuff going on around the side and corner of his mouth, talking loud on his pre-paid cause he dropped his cheap ass phone in the toilet. Won’t clean, can’t cook and looks at the laundry as if it’s going to wash itself. Bitch ass will wait for you to come home from a hard days work, lean forward for a kiss (Muah) and then ask if you need help with something. The multiple excuses that this bum azz cries about are endless. Nicca thinks he’s too good to even work in a warehouse, making, packing, sealing boxes and shipping them out to vendors. How hard can it be? Kids in other countries do it. Shyt, money’s green especially when you don’t have anything going on, right now. Oh my bad, that would be the definition of the word “potential” (nothing happen right now). But she thinks he’s cute, right?

Pigeon toe and bum azz Byrd-man are bottom feeders. They enjoy the pickin’s of other people trash. They pickup shyt from off the ground and take it home. They are the robbin robin-hoods of homeland garbage. Bandits of the community then have the nerve to complain that its trash. Together, it’s a scene of a nuclear waste spill gone wrong. But it’s no accident. Birds and Bird-men (nicca’s) can’t help themselves for doing what they do best, which is shyt on everything they touch and fly ova.

Bryds luv dat thug dick stirring her pot until their stomach bubbles. Scrubin and scrapin the bottom, cool it down roll da dice and called it jackpot, royal flush baby, home made crackalackin, microwave hatchlins only to grow up later repeating the cycle and terrorize the community. Ain’t nothing like givin a good dick down now and again. Especially when work is slow or when nobody is hiring. Daddy be like skull phuckin dat azz slow and long strokin dat ass, speed it up flip her ova and straight attack sweet skeet up all in dat arse. Ah! The good ole dayz of kickin your feet up and just let it drip. No towel needed he’ll wipe it off on the sheets. You know how he do…

Some will never learn. The love affair they have for nicca’s, is simply a mindset, a condition that is beyond normal comprehension to the average Joe. One has to be phucked up to relate. It’s about the want verses the need. It’s the physical attraction over the spiritual attachment. They yearn for a nicca but need a man, desperately. It’s only the crack callin. It’s mo like being addicted to crack dick cocaine seven dayz a week. Inhaling the pipe and taking it, very well. Lil chickadees giving into their desires and forever missin their callin and fallin hard. Falsely attracted to what is to be considered to be a fine or handsome young man, forgetting about what’s most important, the spiritual connection.

When cornered, The Bum Arse will dig deep into his bag of tricks get down on one knee and present to her a ring, diamond like style, along with his hand in marriage just before she kicks him out of the house. It’s a desperate attempt to grab hold of the edge while swimming in deep waters. Knowing he’s ova his head; kickin splashin and needing for a lifesaver. Bankin, more like prayin to receive mouth to mouth recitation.  Time is running out for Honey the shortcut queen so she’ll jump on the first half ass wedding proposal that she’s presented with, thinking “What the hell, I’m not getting any younger”.  Little does she know Nicca’s only buying time so he can bounce on his terms; mainly to another chick’s crib. He doesn’t have time to create a nest, a place of his own. The people at the leasing office ask too many questions. Besides they want a nicca to leave a deposit and shyt. He just rather go half. Steady on dat 50/50 shyt forever holdin back 50.

I’m sure you know him or know his all too familiar story. He’s the dude that comes in the house, late, smelling like pickle juice and sour cabbage with turkey bacon. As soon as he enters the house your dumb azz walks to the linen closet, like Ceili in the Color Purple and hand him a wash clothe n towel and turn on the shower fo him. Just glad a niggah came home. You don’t ask where he been cause you already know. All you care about is how much money he places on the kitchen table and whether or not if he plays with the kids, so you can go out and do your thang. You know him and trust me, he knows you.

A Bird is a chick that flies around in circles going nowhere, doing the same shyt all the time and expect something to change.  She’s normally a big booty chick wit phat lips, nyce hips to hold, a baby makin machine. Nahmean!

This right derr is the life of the ghetto sparrow and her love affair with a bitch azz nicca, the bum who’s coastin and eaten off her food stamps (Cloud bubble to self… I’m swiping niggah, I’m swipin) and living swell off her section 8 (Cloud bubble self… We got 3 bedrooms n shyt, nicca. What you got?). When she syck he says, “We” sick. As for the do right Brutha, well that nicca can’t get no love. By the time birdmane is finished with her she’s no good to nobody. She may think she’s ready for an upgrade but her mind is frazzled and her body may even in a worst state all stretched and worn out, damaged goods, somebody else’s cast away. Who needs a Man when you already got a niggah.

Heaven is at the foot of Mother…

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