Hustlers POME(Product Of My Environment)

It was a cold summer day. Yes you heard that correct. The playground filled with single moms conversing while their children played. Usually the scenery is dice bets, Hennessy and blunts in the air. Coming outside you got that feeling like nobody was gonna die today. I walk through the playground past the little kids. Straight to the store to get me one of those styrofoam cups with ice, ready to fill it with something nice. A tinted black car pulls up who could it be. A detective? Or an opp from some other street? Ready to draw 4 on uno. But you know things like this we used to. Anyways back to me though. I walk down the street to the liquor spot. Told em “bro can I a fifth of henny?” Paid that man then left. So what’s next, I see the weed man stop him in his tracks ask if he was holding packs. Gave me a look like nigga really, I’m like “yeah I know that question was silly. But anyways how much the 8ths going for?” He told me “35” then gave me the nod to follow him inside his building. I exit the building then realized I ain’t got shit to roll up with. So back to the block had to stop at the ock store. “Yo Ock honey backwoods give me 4. Matter of a fact let me get a whole pack.” I slide him a 5 leave the store and continue this journey of mine. Back across the street before I walk through the playground again. See some strange looking men, hooded up and its 85 outside. That’s when I knew shit was about to get live. To avoid making myself a target I didn’t panic just took the long way around. Before I knew shots rang out like damn I know they laid someone down. Thinking like all them kids in that damn park at least they could’ve waited till after dark. But it’s broad day sun shining, I’m still speed walking. Tryna make it inside because bullets ain’t got no name. I get in through the back door, nerves finally calm, wipe some sweat with my palm, then hit the elevator button with my other hand. Thinking to myself can this thing hurry up. It finally shows. I walk in press my floor right as it’s about to close guess who stops the door.... It’s the gun men, I immediately put my head down. I think I made eye contact with one of them before they started spraying. From my peripheral I can see them staring at me, mumbling to each other. All I can think of was my mother having to bury her own child. Thinking of ways I would defend myself if they attacked me that moment. Like I got a bottle Henny one of them getting it to the temple, hit the other one in the stomach and grab his gun. Tell both get on the ground get to my floor and just run. I’m far from a killer but I’d rather their mamas crying than mine. Then the elevator stops I don’t know what floor we on but I’m standing there hoping we not going to the same one. Who would leave first and I did would they follow me to my door. Elevator slowly opens up it’s like the moment of truth. All I see is 13 and I’m beyond relived, they walk out staring at me. Once the door closed I felt like I could breathe. Even opened the bottle right then and there took a sip and thanked god. See coming from the west side of Harlem you rarely beat the odds. You don’t even have to scheme, rob, sell drugs or gang bang. You a product of your environment even if you’re a scholar. They look at us all the same.