Help me to understand a few things: Why is it that a brotha can’t give another brotha a pat on the back when that said brotha is doing big things? And why is it that a brotha who’s not doing anything with his life, got the most to say about everybody else? And why is it that you now have brothas hating on sistas that are trying to reach for the sky? If you don’t have the answers to these questions, don’t fret. I really don’t have the answers either.
I will say that hate is truly becoming an epidemic amongst my brothas. It’s no secret that women hate on each other all of the time like it’s a full-time job. The majority of female haters are the ones that are highly intoxicated with insecurities. If a sista walks in the room with her dress looking gorgeous as if it was made straight from the hands of Jesus, women will roll their eyes at her and then the name-calling starts. She might’ve came in the place as a good, wholesome Christian girl but by the end of the night, the women have made her out to be a two-dollar whore that lives with her pimp.
But the brothas are a different kind of breed. They too will talk sh*t about their fellow man but they will also do whatever they can to destroy him in the most violent way possible. Women do have the tendency to ruin the reputation of a woman that they may be jealous of but you don’t really hear of women trying to take her life. It does happen but it doesn’t happen very often.
Here’s an example of what a lot of hateful brothas do: If Ray Ray gets a huge job promotion to the point where he’s able to move his family out of the ghetto, you know damn well that Jerome is gonna throw shade like it’s nobody’s business. The minute that Mr. Jerome “Jealous” James gets wind of Ray Ray’s success, Jerome gives Ray Ray the side-eye on the low and says to himself, “I don’t know who the hell he thinks he is. Just because he’s leaving the ghetto, it don’t make him better than me. He still ain’t sh*t, going around here with his chest all puffed out like he’s the man. I oughta kick his ass. I remember when that broke n**ga used to buy his clothes from the Family Dollar. And now he thinks he’s so damn blessed because some white man gave him a promotion. Man, please. I ain’t ‘bout to work for some white man. I gotta keep it real.”
Meanwhile, Jerome is unemployed and has been living with his mama for the past two years…and he’s forty-two years old. And why is he unemployed? Welp, while he was at work, he decided to take a weed break instead of a smoke break and he got caught. Not only that, he still sleeps on that raggedy-ass, roach infested twin bed that he’s had since he was eighteen years old and he don’t do anything around the house except eat up all the Cap ‘N Crunch and drank up all the Juicy Juice. His grown ass got the nerve to ask his mama for money so that he can buy the new jordans that just came out, even though she’s struggling to pay the light bill. To add insult to injury, a couple of duck-face hoochies have gotten pregnant by him and he don’t claim NONE of the kids even though all five of them bastards look exactly like him with that football-shaped head and crooked-ass teeth.
Hi mama has to damn near sing a Negro spiritual in order to get him to clean up after himself and he’s still hanging with the same broke brothas that are throwing their lives away. And every day, he is constantly saying, “This is gonna be my year. My rap career is gonna take off and I’m gonna take over the rap game.” He’s been saying that crap since he was twenty-years old and has yet to make a demo or even network with anyone. And his mama is stuck with the fact that she’s raised and enabled one helluva lazy bastard.
So now, he’s mad at Ray Ray because Ray Ray is making moves and doing what he’s supposed to do as a grown man. One day, Jerome watches Ray Ray from his bedroom window as a bunch of dudes are helping Ray Ray load up the U-Haul truck. This makes Jerome feel like a wet food stamp and so in order to feel like “the man”, he pulls out his gun from underneath his bed and shoots twice at Ray Ray from his bedroom window. Both bullets enter into Ray Ray’s chest, killing him instantly. Not only does Ray Ray loses his life due to Jerome’s jealous rage, Jerome is sentenced to life in prison and Ray Ray’s family is having a hard time dealing with the loss of their loved one.
See, Jerome was so blinded by jealousy and self-hatred that he allowed his actions to go left. Ray Ray’s life could’ve been an inspiration for Jerome but he decided to remain stuck on stupid. Not only did he end Ray Ray’s life but he also ended his own life because he’s now an inmate for the rest of his life. He had too much pride to simply ask Ray Ray to help him get his start. He thought that would make him look like less of a man to ask another man for help. Had he done so, he’d probably realize that trying to create a rap career at the age of forty-two is ridiculous and that he needed to get a glimpse on reality and get his life together.
Furthermore, if he had his act together, he would’ve moved his behind outta his mama’s house, he would’ve admitted that all five of those kids were his, and he would’ve made a much better life for himself. And even if Ray Ray had decided to not help him at all, he could’ve gotten his fresh start from somebody else. Believe me; if you really want to do something, you’re not gonna let anyone stop you from doing it.
But Jerome took the punk route because he couldn’t deal with the fact that he was seriously screwing up his life. To this day, there are millions of brothas in the prison system for something very similar to the Jerome and Ray Ray scenario. Sadly, most of them still think they’re hard. Tell me something: if you’re an inmate, why are you acting like you’re still “the man”? A real man is one who has control of his life and knows where he’s going. Once you’re behind those steel bars, you’re not in control of anything and you’re told what to do EVERY DAY. You get told what to eat, when to eat, when to sleep, when to pee, and you can’t even play with your own ding-a-ling without a guard kicking your tail.
So, please. If any of you brothas are close to being like Jerome, I challenge you to take a good look in the mirror. If you see a figure staring back at you that resembles a horse’s ass, I suggest that you do a divine intervention on yourself. Here are a few helpful tips to help you along:
1. If you are hanging around the same fools that are not doing anything except talking about the same mess, clean out your closet before you end up being like them.
2. If you are still TRYING to be a rapper and you are almost fifty-years old with grandkids, slap yourself.
3. If you go to the club and you are at least ten years older than everyone there (including the owner), go get some Jesus.
4. If you are fifty-years old and you’re still sporting French braids…*sigh*…do I really need to go there?
I think you get the hint. Good day.
Copyright © 2013 by Sonica Jackson
***The views and opinions expressed here on my website are solely those of myself and do not in any way represent the views and opinions of WordPress or anyone else.