THAT I KNOW

I KNOW. I know a real man, broke and struggling, carrying the weight of the world in silence, yet somehow still keeping his soul intact. And I know fake men with money and chains, living loud, getting praised like kings, while the real get overlooked again. I know good girls turned side chicks, loving with broken hearts, settling for less, trying to heal in places that keep cutting them open. And I know others who played the game cold, got wiped, got hyped, got chosen by the streets, while genuine love kept losing. I know a man who did serious time, sat in a cell and never said a word on his friends, stood tall on loyalty while the world forgot his name. Then I see snitches still celebrated, still rated highly, still welcomed with applause, and it makes you question what loyalty even means now. They say you don’t have to be street to be real, and honestly, that part is true, Because I know legit people, quiet people, people working regular jobs and fighting silent battles, who are realer than trappers and gang bangers, trying to force an image they can’t even live up to. I’ve seen the fake get praised while the real get stepped on. Seen money replace morals, clout replace character, and survival replace love. There’s barely respect anymore, barely loyalty, barely truth. The game changed somewhere along the way, and now the loudest lies shine brighter than the quiet honesty of real people. Still, the real ones exist. Broken, struggling, forgotten maybe, but still real.