Epistle to the Game

The game is cold

They say. It spares no one.

To be accepted into the fold.

One must hold a ton.

The weight has to be foresight

It has to be discernment and knowledge.

There’s no room for maybe

And you can’t know the game from college.

It’s about mastery over language and all.

It’s about connecting with the game.

It’s about if you’re short you’d better be tall

In the showing of the game without shame.

Love is not expected in this life.

You can have a woman on the blade

But she won’t bear kids or be your wife.

This is not to kick up dust or throw shade.

The game permits the pimp to know

How to be the best dressed and looking fly.

But his mind makes the clothes for the show.

In the game, the pimping will never die.