I WAS RAISED IN THE HOOD SO WHAT THE HECK SO I REPRESENT THE WOOD AND GET RESPECT CATCH ME IN THE CLUB PARLAYIN' TAKING FLICKS WITH ABOUT HUNDRED DIFFERENT 'CERTS UP IN MY MIX I NEVER KNEW NOTHIN' BUT THE HUSTLE I WAS ABLE TO DEAL WHAT THEY CALL THE ROOT OF EVIL GOT ME LIVING ON THE HILLS STILL ROLLIN' CHROME BOY, IT'S ON BOY YOU CAN TAKE THE BOY OUT THE HOOD BUT NOT THE HOOD OUT THE HOMEBOY
Mack 10 F/ T-Boz
Curran gave me a flat look. "I can always drive to a burger joint instead." "Oh, so you'd throw a burger down my throat and expect making out in the back seat?" He grinned. "We can do it in the front seat instead, if you prefer. Or on the hood of the car." "I'm not doing it on the hood of the car." "Is that a dare?" Why me?
The self is constituted within a variety of arenas and in relation to multiple traditions. Self-hood, on this understanding, is both provisional and open-ended, and critically depends on the configuration of relationships between one's own groups and those cultures and values that are deemed 'other'. The regulation of alterity becomes a defining attribute of self-hood, as my sense of who I am is crucially mediated by an understanding of that which I am not (paraphrasing William Connolly).
All right." He straightened up and seemed to be true to his promise to let it go. "I will be a man about this." That lasted until he saw the scratches on the hood from the mountain lion and the front fender, Where Abigail had dragged it off the driveway. Wailing, he went to it and sank to his knees. He sprawled over the hood and laid his head on the damaged fender. "I'm so sorry, Bets. I should of hidden the keys. Booted your tires. Something. I had know idea anyone would hurt you so, baby. I swear I'll never let anyone hurt you again. Ayyy, how could they do this to you? How? Oh the humanity!
Say a white boy takes a wrong turn and comes to my hood, " he once said. "Now he's in the minority-nobody wants him there, unless it's to rob his ass-and more than anything he has to think about how to protect himself, how to get out. There's no weaker situation to be in than that, and this boy isn't getting anything productive done until he's out, back among his own people. But we take a wrong turn and end up at Yale, for the first time in our lives we don't have to worry about protecting ourselves. And we were all able to get enough shit done to be accepted here-so imagine what we can do when you take all the crazy hood shit out of the equation and we can just focus on the business at hand. So what if it's annoying as hell? Instead of sitting around here bitching about it, maybe we just accept that it is what it is, and know that we have the capacity to get way more from them than they'll ever get from us.
YEAH WE HEAR NOW, DIE MOTHERFUCKER DON'T BE SCARED NOW, DIE MOTHERFUCKER BLACK CHILD I'M OFF PAROLE IT'S MURDA NOW IN A HOOD NEAR YOU ABOUT TO BURN IT DOWN WORD TO GOD IT FEELS LIKE I'M FROM EVERY HOOD CUZ WHEN YOU GHETTO YOUR GHETTO WITH GATS YOU GOOD SELL CRACKS IF YOU COULD BUST YOUR GAT WHEN YOU SHOULD IT'S FOR MY BLACKS FROM THE BRICKS BACK TO INGLEWOOD WE EAT TOGETHER NIGGA FUCK THE CROSSROADS IN THIS WORLD MY FLOW IS ANOTHER LOST SOUL MY SHIT SOUNDS LIKE SHOTS FROM A FOUR POUND FOR THESE BITCH CLOWNS IT'S WAR NOW IT'S ALL ABOUT PAPER THAT'S MY ISSUE FUCK PEACE YOU CAN HAVE A PIECE OF THE PISTOL
Ja Rule F/ Black Child
Vespers Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed, Droops on the little hands little gold head. Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares! Christopher Robin is saying his prayers. God bless Mummy. I know that's right. Wasn't it fun in the bath tonight? The cold's so cold, and the hot's so hot. Oh! God bless Daddy - I quite forgot. If I open my fingers a little bit more, I can see Nanny's dressing-gown on the door. It's a beautiful blue, but it hasn't a hood. Oh! God bless Nanny and make her good. Mine has a hood, and I lie in bed, And pull the hood right over my head, And I shut my eyes, and I curl up small, And nobody knows that I'm there at all. Oh! Thank you, God, for a lovely day. And what was the other I had to say? I said "Bless Daddy, " so what can it be? Oh! Now I remember. God bless Me. Little Boy kneels at the foot of the bed. Droops on the little hands little gold head. Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares! Christopher Robin is saying his prayers.