Hello there! So, last week, I posted that I was given an assignment by my classmates to write a "gangster rap" poem, and some of you expressed interest of seeing this proof of my ghetto-fabulousness. So, I'll post said poem at the end of this post! This is what I wore to read my rap to the class. I don't know about you, but I personally find high waisted pants and oxfords quite intimidating. I'm sure you wouldn't want to run into me on the street or anything while I'm wearing this outfit, right? Yeah, the class had a good laugh about me reading my rap in this getup, particularly because of my totally gangster flower hair clip. Anyway, I almost wore my dad's old tuxedo sweater instead of this tee, but I thought I would look too tough. Ah, another day my dear tuxedo sweater! This tee shirt is absolutely one of my favorites. It's a threadless tee called the Scream-o. It's a play on the painting The Scream, but it's an emo kid at a skate park. I appreciate its wit! Anyway, part of the reason I decided to wear this tee is because I wore it last year during conference week (my school's "finals week"), and my faculty advisor saw me wearing it and was all, "Is that how you feel right now?" and I was all "ABSOLUTELY". And now that it's conference week again, I thought it'd be fun to bring it out.
Shoes: Steve Madden
And, without further ado, my terribly gangster rap...
Let me tell you all a story, cause I know you want to hear one,
About the time I saw my brother die, set like a winter sun.
I saw the cancer cut through him, sure and erratic,
Like a spear headed bullet from a semi-automatic.
I watched his stringy hair drop dying to the floor
Like the dollars in my hand at the jewelry store.
I got him everything he could ever want or need
His favorite meals to eat, though he was never hungry,
A chain with his name spelt in immortal gold,
The richest cashmere blanket to keep him from the cold,
And then my job was done, I left him there alone
To go roll with my homies, go make some ladies moan.
By choice I blew my life away, like a cigarette
While the cancer faded my poor brother to a silhouette.
Now he’s dead and gone, with a tombstone for a name
And I’m stuck here, alone, with my life gone up in flames.
Every day I look for answers in the pools of blood I fill,
But the guilt only gets stronger with every heart I kill.
I see my brother’s shadow in every chilling breeze,
And I spend my life wishing I could have killed a disease.
That would be my gangster pose. Yes, I did that after I read my rap. Yes, my entire class things I'm
Nicole (Aka Lil Nickie aka Testafly aka Coco Maria)