You think you’re real cool
with your drugs and your jewels
and your trunk full a tools
think you made your own rules
think your
sinatra that you did it your way
but they been doing it your way for the last forty days
for the last hundred years it’s been nothing but tears
come from his mama’s eyes when she cries it shows her age
the lines in her face
no time could erase
she sees her baby’s face
every time she awakes

Her next thoughts on you
on what she’s bout to do
how she’s gonna come through
what she’s got to show and prove
police won’t listen
nowhere to turn to
so what’s a good mother to do?

She puts her grand kids down
slips out of her gown
into clothes for colder weather
sits in the den
smoking cigarettes in silence
getting it together
tonight she rides for violence
tonight she grips the leather
try to erase forever

to bring her baby back
all she needs is you
two in your back
she knows what she needs to do
not concerned with the aftermath
already had to handle that
nothing could be worse
then putting her baby in a herse
so tonight she packs a dillinger
tucked inside her purse

She’s gonna sneak into the movies
where you and your dudes be
she’ll smell you by your doobies
identify you by your dookies
sit somewhere in the back and wait for the attack
when the first fight scene
lights up the screen
and all the audience can hear
are gun shots and screams
she’s gonna pop pop real quick right before she leaves
spray a few more shots into the nearby seats
make sure she gets a couple of your homies in the knees
there won’t be no chase scene, not the way she sees
there will be nothing but revenge as she exits east
off into the night, into the crisp spring breeze

drops that gat in the garbage walks to the bus stop
ask for help crossing the street from a motherfucking cop
she’s old and it shows, but only when she wants it to
sirens ring past her as she gets on the 22