Gangs & Street Gangs » From Gangstyle.com

Gang poetry: Another Lost Cause

Street Gang Articles — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 13:00:44 +0000

Another Lost Cause

My people are hurting

children turned to monsters,

Northern Cali livin where 9 year old kids curse like mobsters.

Politicians cant figure out the reason

for all the drugs violence and hate,

but I alone know the answer to why all that seems their fate.

Ask them about their childhhood

and theyll become distant and blank,

some clutch 9’s with their lil hands

while watching their young mothers snort up crank.

Ask the lil cholas

why they settle for men who use their fists

and youll hear a story of a baby raped, at the tender age of six.

Little boys protecting their mothers from drunk inked up men

lil girls watching their older brothers sent off to the pin

Damnt dont yall see, it starts at home

broken and battred women, feeling safe by a cholos chrome.

Then having kids to young,

resenting their lost youth

the mothers take off

leavin the oldest kid to raise the other two.

I know a girl whos mother sold her tiny body

for a bit of cheap dope

to the same men who slept with her

and lived all in her home.

It sickens me, the rate that dehumanization is quickening

upper class fight over allowance

always havin but steady bickering.

While a kid across town

is lettin the homies pull a train

cuz she needs protection from them in this wicked terrain.

Wheres the parents? Some cant be found. Out tryin to ease the pain

that their parents handed down.

The cycle has to be broken

someone has to care

for these orphaned ghetto children

thinking normality is despair.

Dana

Gangs: This is not a way of life

Street Gang Articles — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 13:00:47 +0000

This is not a way of life
I came from a very close knit family.I am an only child,so it was always just me, my mom and my dad.My father was an alcoholic or another term a functioning drunk.I grew up in a neighborhood that was low class and was known as gang territory.My grandparents were Pachuco’s, so I grew up knowing about the life.My father was mexican and my mother is white.

In school I gained a lot of popularity because I had blond hair and blue eyes,but I’m Latin and speak spanish.I started “just hanging” around gang members when I was 8 years old.I quickly started feeling like a little family,which I was not feeling at home,so that felt real good.By the age of 10 I went to my first party with gang members.I liked how much fun I was having hanging out with my new “family” and in the mean while telling my parents I was with friends from school.

At the age of 11 I got jumped into the gang.I was jumped for 2 minutes by four 16 year old guys from my gang.At the age of 11,I took one hell of a beating.I told my mom that I got in a fight at school.So now I was in the gang.”What does that really mean?” I thought that night.All fun and parties all the time?Feeling accepted and wanted all the time?People not hurting me anymore because I now have new respect?

Boy was I WRONG!At the age of 12 I did my first drive by.Here I am as scared as can be in a car full of gang members (like me)going to do a drive by.That same year I had 5 homeboys die.Thats when my grades in school started going down.My mom would ask what was going on with me.I kept explaining nothing.I was an undercover gang member to my parents.I blinded them with this good girlie act.My mom would say that I was dressing and looking like a “chola.”I kept reassuring her that I was just dressing like one,cause I like the style.My parents didn’t want to admit that there little girl could be in a gang.

When I was 14 years old I was stabbed in the leg by a rival gang.So I thought thats all right because I “took one” for my neighborhood…(yeah right!)I used to kick back in my neighborhood drinking 40’s of beer and smoking weed.Thought that was the life.All my friends were getting pregnant and having kids at 11,12,13 etc…By the time I was 18 years old I had 7 miscarriages.I can’t tell you how many time I heard the words “Oh baby I love you,Its me and you forever.” I swear I thought every guy I was with was the one and it was going to last forever.I learned real quick Guys will tell you ANYTHING to get what they want.I had my closest homegirls sleep with my man behind my back.(Good friends huh?)

By the time I was 18 I had lost 46 friends to gang violence.Thats one hell of alot of funerals to go to and alot of innocent families to look into there eyes and say sorry,when down deep inside they are cussing you out because they feel that you are just some gang member that helped him get in that casket.As the the casket is lowered in the ground all your homies are talking about revenge.When I was 19 I was cruising with my homies.There was six of us in the car.Four guys and two girls.I was sitting in the front in between two guys.We were at a stop light.A rival gang drove up on us and shot at us.The guy that was driving was hit in the head and the bullet came out the other side of his head and ricocheted of my head.His brains were splattered all over me.Knowing that one of my closest friends had just died and I had his brains on me I was rushed to the hospital.Thank GOD I was alright.That was another funeral and another loss.

After that I was shot at about a dozen times more.Then when I was 20 I was arrested for homicide.I had no idea what the police were talking about.I sat in a cell thinking after all these years of doing bad that I was getting busted for something I really had no idea about.By the Grace of God,they found out that they had the wrong person.I was never so scared in my life.I thought being stabbed and shot that was bad.I even thought having all these tatoo’s all over my body was bad or the fact that I could have died,but going to jail for something I didn’t do for the rest of my life.So I prayed and prayed.The Lord heard my prayers.After that I thought I owe this to God that I am alive.I owe it to myself and my loved ones to stay alive.

At 21 I decided that I had enough.So one night I was kicking back in my neighborhood.There was about 50 of us that night.I told them I wanted out.I said if you want to jump me out then thats fine,but I want out.I went and talk to one of the Veteranos (older homeboys).They said “You did yours for the neighborhood and you can just walk out with respect because we have repsect for you.”As I was getting ready to leave and saying bye to everyone,knowing that I was still going to see everyone here and there just not kick it anymore.The police rolled up and I thought “I guess one last time.”So there I was on the floor, on my knees, hands behind my head and an officer behind me with a 12 gauge shot gun to the back of my head.After checking everything out they were letting us all go.

These cops who ran the gang unit knew be by name.That night I told them that I was out of the scene.They congratulated and even gave me hugs.Then asked if I needed a ride home.That was the first time I was in a police car without hand cuffs on.My father died that year.I have since became close with my mother and told her all about my undercover life that her and my father only feared but didn’t know about.I think of all the sleepless nights I kept my mother awake wondering if I was dead or alive.I think of all the years I probably took off my mothers life stressing over me.I think HOW could I have done this to her.My mother,my real family.

I saw alot of friends die for my neighborhood,but what does a neighborhood do for you?

You claim a street or hood that you will NEVER own.You pay rent for a neighborhood that will NEVER be yours.I think now about all the funerals where everyone said they would die for there homie,but you know I never seen anyone jump on the casket and go in the ditch with them.When you take a life or have one taken from you,it affects more then just you.There are people that love and will miss and grieve too.Its affects EVERYONE around you.What people don’t understand is that once a life is gone…thats it!NO second chance!Life is only one time.

If you are a gang member PLEASE take it from me there is a REAL life out there.You just have to be strong enough to take a chance and walk away before it is too late.Life is too short anyways…then to let be even shortened by doing time in prison or being dead.If you live a real Gangsters life that is the only two ways out, prison or death.There are so many other things out there in life for you.

If you don’t care enough about yourselves to get out STOP being SELFISH and think about all the loved ones you will leave behind.How will they handle life without a husband,wife,brother,sister,daughter,son,mother, father.Pictures,memories and a cemetary is all they will have left.PLEASE think about it!!!

They Ask Why We Cry

Street Gang Articles — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 13:00:30 +0000

I am a 14teen year old Gangster Disciple from New Orleans, and I feel like I am ready to die. Not that I am suicidal,Im not, but I feel like an old woman. I have been shot three times, stabbed four. Seen my daddy go to prison, my mom leave me, brothers die. JUst a child, with perminant tears. Jaded with no will to go on. Listen to my story. I was born into a family with a mom addicted to heroine, no dad. 3 brothers, all at least 8 years older, and in sets. When I was five, my oldest brother died from Ecstacy. Mama went crazy around that time. She left us, so my brothers took care of me. We had to move out of the house. We started to live in my brother Dre’s car.

I was almost always alone, and I was always scared. Sometimes my youngest brother DD would sing to me, and tell me it would get better. I never believed him, By the age of 9 I knew what was up. I started to run dope for my brothers around town. One night after curfiew a cop pulled me over because I was so young. He searched me and found a fourth of weed and a key load of coke. I was sentenced to 13 months in juvi when I was eleven. I got out after 9 months and turned bad ass.

I walked the line into being a GD. I started to hang wit boyz that were 17 and 18, they would fuck wit me, slap me around. By the time i was 13 I walked the streets a little and hussled everyday. I was slangin so serious dough, snortin some bad shit. I was moved in wit my bro DD, an it was all gon turn out i felt great all numb, I had been stabbed two times and shot once, but i was still cool.

One night on one of the pointless fights, I got too into it to notice that Everyone else was running. They had pulled their guns and i was retaliating. Dre came back for me, and was shot. Dre died that night to save me. After this, I got more into the gang life. I got shot two more times and raped more then i want to talk about. Thats what it took for me to stop.

Now all I am is a young teenager with multiple scars, inside and out. Wearing my black rag in mourning, I think how long can this go on. So young and seen things I hope no one else ever has to. So all those politicians ask, why do we do what we do? why do we cry? Thats why, thats me. I ask, Why do i have to walk around strapped, why do I have to see the things I do? I think you would cry too.

SoMuchPain

Dedication

Street Gang Articles — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 13:00:07 +0000

In a couple of weeks on the calender it would mark the deaths of some close friends and I want to dedicate this song on this you tube link to them. I want to dedicate this to all of you on the gangstyle forums, whoever you are, where ever you are. Most of all to all the people I had to leave behind. I love and miss all of you. It might sound cheesy but my homie said it best ” I say one love, I’ll remember the laughs until we cross paths”

Abba Father, I did my best

Street Gang Articles — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 13:00:30 +0000

Abba Father, I did my best by Anghellic

If I could, I’d ask for bigger and better thangs for my hood.

I’d ask God to take away

The many coffins filled

By night and by day.

I’d ask God for wisdom,

Love and a softened heart.

I thank Him before my day

Even began to start .

I’d ask for bigger and better thangs Then walkin alone in the dark.

My path, I cant always see,

Whats lies before me.

God, please come down and wipe my smudgy glasses clean.

I wanna be a mean warrior for Christ,

Fightin the battle along side my Father

Who hears me when my silent

Tears cry outloud.

I wanna stand high on the Platform of

Success. Cryin out” Abba Father,

I did my best.”

Have you ever seen an angel cry?

Street Gang Articles — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 13:00:33 +0000

Have You ever seen a angel cry? by Smokey 062

Have You ever seen a angel cry? Deep in the night, you hear a solemn sigh..because her daddy lied. Lied to her mother, and lied to her, lied about how he was gonna change..it kills me to hear my angel cry, all because her daddy lied. You see she doesnt understand why you keep gettin locked up, all she knows is your not there to tuck her in at night. She cries for you, because she knows, soon, you wont be coming home. Maybe you should listen to what happens when a angel cries..i promise you, you’ll want to run and hide. Too many times, Ive sit and soothed, my precious baby, so young and yet so abused. not by me, or even by you, physically, but your abusing her mentally, because she knows that one of these nights you leave, you’ll never be coming home.Next time, listen to an angel cry..

Sacrifices

Street Gang Articles — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 13:00:29 +0000

One of our most popular and respected writes Twilight is back on the scene and he drop this piece:

As I got out of the shower this morning I looked at myself in the mirror at my tattoos and scars I thought to myself and wondered about the sacrifices I have made in my life to get when I am today. One of my tattoos is the classic “praying hands” Im sure you all seen it or something like it on someone you know. I dont know if you all know the real story behind it but long ago there was a poor family and they had two sons.

The oldest brother had the talent to be a sculptor but the younger brother wanted to be a painter but the family could only send one brother to a school for sculpting or a school for painting. The decided to send older brother to sculpting school, the younger brother was heartbroken. The older brother seeing this decided to take the money and save it and send his younger brother to school. Without his family knowing, instead of going to school everyday the older brother instead got a job working the mines.

Years and years he worked his fingers to the bone saving up every bit of money he could till at last he had saved enough to send him brother to school. by that time the older brothers hands were so rough, and had been broken so many times working in the mines that he could never be a sculpture now. When people ask him why he did what he did he tells them that it was out of love for his brother than compelled him to do it. As a tribute to the love and sacrifice of his brother, the younger painted his very first painting of his brothers hands, frail, old, and broken.

Now your wondering whats the point of this story, well directly across from that tattoo is another one. its Jesus Christ on the cross. I know alot of us have questioned the will of God. I know I have. I know I shook my fist at the sky and and asked why thru tear soaked eyes. I know we all feel or felt that God forsakes us and dont love us or just dont give a damm bout what happens to us but if that were true Jesus would not have died on that cross that day. god so loved the world, THE WORLD for all its sinners, for all the ugliness and the things we do to ourselves and each other. he gave his only son to die for you, for us….no matter who you are, real, fake, lost and alone. Always remember that God loves you. He will never forsake you no matter what you’ve done, all you have to do is ask and he will forgive you. God’s love is awesome….

Love is patient, love is kind, and is not jealous;
love does not brag and is not arrogant,
does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own,
is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered,
does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth;
bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails 1 Corinthians 13:4

LET MY LIFE GO DOWN

Street Gang Articles — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 13:00:38 +0000

I GOT INTO ALL OF THIS CUZ OF THE CHILDHOOD I HAD. I GREW UP THINKIN I WAS F*CKED UP IN THE HEAD. WAS NEVER CLOSE WITH MY PARENTS, IN FACT I HATED THEM N I WAS ONLY A LIL KID. HAD A SH*TLOAD OF RESPONSIBILITIES WHEN I WAS LIL, NEVER GOT TO BE A F*CKEN KID HAD TO BE AN ADULT N TAKE CARE OF MY BROTHER N SISTER. I LIVED IN CALIFORNIA, GANG-BANGIN IS LIKE THE BIGGEST THING WHERE I USED TO LIVE. AS SOON AS I GOT TO 5TH GRADE I WENT WILD. MY PARENTS COULDNT CONTROL ME. IT WAS BOMB CUZ I FINALLY WAS DOIN THE STUFF I WANTED TO…GETTIN HIGH& DRINKIN. I WOULD SLEEP AT MY GRAMAS N WOULDNT GO HOME FOR LIKE 2 WEEKS OR ONE DAY A WEEK. SCHOOL GRADES SUCKED. THEN MY PARENTS REALIZED THE SH*T I WAS GETTIN INTO… THEY’D THROW AWAY EVERY BANDANA THEY’D FIND AND WOULD TALK DOWN ON ME. IT DIDNT STOP ME. **** 1 WAS ALREADY DOWN WIT A GANG. BUT THEY WANTED TO MOVE, IT WAS EITHER THAT OR MILTARY SCHOOL. THEY THOUGHT IT WOULD HELP BUT COME ON THERES GANGS EVERYWHERE. I DIDNT TELL MY HOMIES…I WAS SCARED. WE MOVED TO A STUPID **** A** STATE INTO A LIL TOWN. THEY OPENED UP THERE OWN PLACE N ONCE AGAIN I WAS ALONE ALL DAY, SO I’D JUST GET HIGH OFF ANYTHING AT THAT POINT. I STARTED MAKIN FRIENDS. I STARTED FIGHTIN EVERYONE TO GAIN RESPECT. IM GOING TO BE 16 AND NOW IM PREGNANT N MY VATO IS A GANG-BANGER TOO. IM WORRIED ALL THE TIME HE’S G0NA GET SHOT OR LOCKED UP. I REALLY WISH NOW THAT WE WEREN’T CAUGHT UP IN ALL THIS SH*T. I CARE BOUT THIS BABY AND IM AFRAID TO GO OUT AND SINCE I HAVE SO MANY RIVALS THAT THEY’LL JUMP ME AND I’LL LOOSE MY BABY. CUZ LETS FACE IT THEY AREN’T GONA GIVE A **** IF YOUR PREG0 0R N0T… THEY JUS WANT REVENGE. WE HAVE TO WATCH OUR BACKS ALOT AND DONT TRUST NO-ONE. WE ARE CAREFUL WHEN WE GO PLACES WITH PEOPLE WE DONT KNOW… JUST IN CASE THEIR HOMIES WITH A RIVAL. ITS STUPID, I LAY IN BED ALL NIGHT SOMETIMES THINKING ABOUT THE LIFE WE ARE GONA HAVE IF WE STAY HERE… WHAT IF WE GET SHOT SOME DAY AND THEN WHO’S GONA BE HERE FOR MY KID. I NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT MY LIFE IN THE FUTURE WHEN I GOT INTO THIS ALL. NOW I UNDERSTAND WHAT MY FAMILY MEANT WHEN THEY SAID I’D REGRET IT. AS FOR HOMIES IN THE GANG, F*CK THEM THE DAY YOU GET LOCKED UP, THEIR ALL THREATENING YOU NOT TO SNITCH OR ELSE. AND WHEN YOU WANA GET OUT THEY WANT TO BEAT YOU AND KILL YOU, AND THEY SAID THEY WERE HOMIES. F*UCK HOMIES THEIR ALL FAKE, TRUST NO-ONE. ITS ALL A BIG LIE ALL THIS GANG SH*T. YOU START OUT THINKING ITS A GAME AND YOU CAN QUIT WHEN YOU GET TIRED BUT NAW… IT BECOMES THE OWNER OF YOUR LIFE AND ITS HELLA HARD TO GAIN CONTROL BACK…

IM STILL TRYING AND I DONT THINK I’LL BE ABLE TO MAKE IT THAT LONG UNLESS I MOVE AWAY AGAIN, BECAUSE I WANT TO SEE MY BABY GROW UP.

ALL OF YOU WHO THINK ITS COOL, THINK TWICE CUZ WHAT SEEMS TO BE FUN FOR A WHILE CAN TURN INTO YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE LATER ON.

LIKE ME, I DREAM I COULD JUST RUN AWAY WITH MY KID& VATO… BUT I WAKE UP AND SEE THAT THIS NIGHTMARE I GOT MYSELF INTO IS REALITY …AND IT’S MY LIFE.

By D0LL13z

Change by Twilight: How to change from being a gang banger.

Street Gang Articles — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 13:00:57 +0000

Nothing is easy when it comes to change. “vida loca”
is not just about gangbanging its about what you love
starts changing. I been where you been and sometimes
it seems I never left. I felt hopeless. I felt great
heartache and sadness but in order for me to get where
I am today I had to sit and look at my life, I mean
take a real hard look at myself and where I was going
and ask myself “is this how I want to live all my
life?” In order for me to change for the better I
really had to want to change. Not just say out loud to
myself or my friends that “hey yeah I wanna change” I
had to really believe it and want it. I also had to
leave a lot of people behind too, change my playground.
No one said it was easy, there is no “how to” book for
any of us. You just got to want it and believe that
you are someone and that life no matter how hard it
may get is worth living and fighting for. You got to
understand that in order for you to live your dreams,
nightmares will happen, life at times might hit you in
the face with something hard. they go hand in hand. No
matter what though dont stop trying to make your life
better for you and yours. Never give up the good
fight. If you need someone to talk to just ask.

Read Twilight’s story here

Why do Black Men hate Black Men? Why do black Men kill Black Men?

Street Gang Articles — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 13:00:10 +0000

These are not questions based on or centered in the rhetorical,

But rather questions that demand that “we” investigate the historical,

Whilst questioning the pathological as well as the psychological!

Questions of logic that demand our investigation to be thorough and logical!

Why do Black Men hate Black Men?

Why do black Men kill Black Men?

Could it be…..

That the psychological damage to your African centered psyche,

Caused by the European centered-AmeriKKKan chattel slavery,

Be the root cause of your hostility towards all things Black and me,

A psyche that now demands that you now despise me, hate me and kill me?

Have you truly investigated the pathology,

Of a Eurocentric-AmeriKKKan centered psychology?

Or have you simply been a victim of your oppressors’ duplicity,

Succumbing to your oppressors’ program of propagandized psychology?

What is the pathology or Eurocentric-AmeriKKKan centered Psychology?

Why do Black Men hate Black Men?

Why do black Men kill Black Men?

For days and days you sit being brainwashed by psychotic, deadly, cathode rays!

Locked in jail, without bail, being psychologically programmed to completely fail!

Or you sit home alone, insulated, isolated, being psychologically miseduKKKated!

Psychologically inundated, manipulated, miseduKKKated, segregated and isolated!

And they report…

“Upon investigation we have found the manifestation,

Of an innate psychological gene of Black criminalization!”

Which is nothing more than a plan of racial justification,

For the unjust incarceration and genocidal termination,

Of every Black Man in this racist Nation!

Can’t you see that the mythology of their psychology is affecting our psychology?

Can’t you see that the mythology of their pathology is affecting our pathology?

Can’t you see that the mythology of their anthropology is affecting our morphology?

What is the true racial pathology of Eurocentric-AmeriKKKan centered Psychology?

Why do Black Men hate Black Men?

Why do black Men kill Black Men?

“Mustafa Rasul Al-Amin” (031001)