Words Are My Weapons of Choice

I grab my pen and cock it ready for war

Ready to go into hand to hand combat with misconceptions

Just cause I’m 6 foot 5 doesn’t mean that poetry doesn’t move my soul

Just because I like to shoot the ball doesn’t mean, I don’t stab my pen into my veins

Draw ink tinged blood like the rest of the poets

I’m from Long Isle and the art is in my heart

Just like in Chelsea or tribeca

I use words just like anyone else does to fight my wars

I use my words to make people cry when I want to be caustic

I use my words to heal broken hearts

Like when Kelly lost her best friend

The words are my weapons to let my girl know she is loved

There is no need for grenades or knives, f a gun

Because, my gun has pentel written on the barrel

And has paper mate etched on the handle

My pen shoots bullets tipped with graphite metaphors that penetrate deep

Deep into your soul

Deep into your cerebellum and help you realize that

The weapons that you use don’t affect me

I borrow bullets from Hughes, Cullen, and Nikki

I get ammo from Biggie, Jay-Z, and Jadakiss

So kiss your weapons good bye because if we stand

Toe to toe me and you, you’re out gunned and out manned

Words are the flavor they savor in my neighborhood

Not that it’s so hood

But it’s my hood and you better enter armed with vocab

My weapons were supplied by my mother and father

Are going to be carried on by my son and daughter

Are going to be potent until the day, words like mine aren’t important

Because, every poet needs to have their weapons cocked to aim

Whether in L I or B K

Words are my weapons and I would have it no other way

"An Akili Carter original"