He was 25 and my sit was right by his side in the passenger's seat,
And there was no replacing me,
Sometimes the driver sit was mine when his ass was too drunk to drive...

He told me being a thug was a skill,
Guess he was king of thugs cause his game was on point...
He was active on that kush,
And whenever he was high, there was a way he looked in my eye with raw lust and passion,
A look that had me scared that making love to him would rip me to pieces,
I was right, only thing was thugs don't make love, they fuck!

But i hated the smell of weed that trailed me whenever i came out his car,
He respected me enough not to smoke in my presence,
But regardless, years of puffin in the car was drenched in the seats,
Along with my clothes and hair,
Needless to say,
My mother's water bill went up in the period of me and him...

Months into us, his car got impounded, he got locked up,
His bail i paid for twice,
He instantly made me his addiction,
Truly believing i was wise beyond my years...

Exhibiting violence as a trait he contemplated murder,
I slept by his side to make sure he didn't go through with it,
I deprived him of sex till i felt he could handle it,
Not once did he cheat, but he was a flirt...

In and out of jobs he flew,
I remained his financial foundation,
His most priced possession...
Stories began to unfold and i discovered he had tried to hide a child from me,
Pleading with me to help raise his son,
At seventeen, i experienced the baby mama drama,
Yes i made a scene of it, but i had every right!
I tried to retreat, but his son was already fond of me...

But our relationship had already began to crumble,
He had broken too many rules of the game for me and jealousy became his trait,
Always demanding my where about and getting paranoid,
Saying things like "you cant look like you do and tell me you not fucking with nobody else",
It was then he got abusive,
It was then he started sneaking,
And i knew it,
I found a brunet's hair in his bed while changing his sheets,
I confronted him, he never denied,
Financially he was draining me,
Emotionally he was breaking me,
And then he did me wrong, something i could never speak of,
Not even in my poem,
He requested too much and i could only give him the best of me,
Guess my best wasn't enough,
After many tears I had to let go,
And for the first time i saw a thug cry,
Till this day i don't know if i made the right choice,
But i knew i was too young to be living the grown life,
At least now i can say experience had made me wiser,
And I know what it feels like to be in a relationship with a thug...


[*Barely Fictional Meanin' Real Life Event... True Talk*]