Rules of Engagement

“Not everyone deserves access.
Not every bond deserves flexibility.”

Rule 1:

We don’t talk in front of strangers.

Rule 2:

If we leave together,

we come back together.

Rule 3:

Take accountability

for breaking any rule.

Rule 4:

Learn and correct one another—

not criticize, not condemn,

not mock mistakes or ignorance.

This is not humorous.

Rule 5:

Share experiences, not opinions.

Share relative theories

with cited sources.

No social media posts.

Rule 6:

You represent the entire group

of your age, size, creed, and ethnicity.

You are a living advertisement

of God’s good grace.

Rule 7:

Be receptive

and less objective.

Rule 8:

More opportunity comes to the optimistic.

The pessimistic needs permission.

Remember—

There is always room to become someone’s boss.

You may play that part.

Accept the position.

Wild Youngins

“They weren’t born reckless—recklessness was what the world handed them.”

My wild youngins

kidnap niggas,

throw them in garbage cans

or bushes somewhere.

I’m scared of them too.

They come smiling like portraits,

styles like comic books—

laughing, haha and shit.

Fuck the night—

in the daytime

it get wild as shit.

You ever seen a nigga run someone down,

pistol pointed at a target,

missing every shot—

and the bullets stray

until somebody else gets hit?

I can’t explain it.

This reality—

not GTA shit.

“Fuck who’s the baddest.” — AZ

To them wild youngins—

thuggish, ruggish—

a time will come

when you remember

and realize how far you made it.

You were created by choice,

defined to exceed any dream you wish—

without getting trapped in it.

A drill makes holes.

Why be destructive

when you can be creative?

Don’t be desperate for friends.

It’s legendary—

most niggas who come up

get killed by who they’re with,

not who they’re against.

That shit is strange.

I had to learn one day.

Ain’t nothing safe

when the wild youngins

come out to play.