A Play by David T.
DEE the GORILLA, MALACHI the GORILLA
Snake Free City, outside their hut, in the cuts of Snake Free City alone surrounded by trees. No gorillas or anything else for at least 2 miles. You can hear the wind gig through the trees, and leaves slamming to the floor.
TIME: Present day, 7:00pm
AT RISE: MALACHI and DEE are posted in front of the hut, waitin’ for their bro bro Sonny to get there, comin’ out of the hospital.
(leans forward) Ay, I been peepin’, you been beakin’, bruh what is you trippin’ about?
Den what is you thinkin’ ‘bout?!
Just da game, ain’t the same.
Bruh, what is you speakin’ ‘bout?!
Ain’t the same, time for change. (He leans forward and nods) Dat’s what I’m speakin’ ‘bout!
(Leans back and puts his hands up) Hol’ on bruh… Jis ‘cause the S.F.P.D. is finna raid, you wanna cut loose from the parade? What about how much we coulda made?
S.F.P.D. ain’t got nothin’ to do wit me! On the grind slackin’ still it ain’t enough to get mine!
(Leans forward) Dat’s da point. We gotta hit the city harder, work a lot smarter. Den we can stack bigger, makin’ whatever figures!
You don’t get it. It’s a dead end road dat we livin’, always takin’ never givin’. All this time we spendin’, plottin’ and schemin’, behavin’ like some demons, got these cats feanin’, we demeanin’ ourselves.
We could make it doin’ somethin’ else.
Somethin’ else?! Dis is what we do, you ryde fo’ me, I ryde fo’ you,
and Sonny too! Now you talkin’ like you on, mind gone, what else is it?!
We stereotyped to be nothin’, but can grind and turn nothin’s into somethin’s!
Naw! Now you trippin’, do you hear what’s comin’ out of yo’ mouth?!
Grinding is that stereotype dat everybody be talkin’ ‘bout!
Now you can sit here tryna yell, scream and shout,
but dat ain’t gon’ change dat dis is a dead end route.
(Puts hand on face)
Bruh, I been slippin’ outa school on some slick rick I’ll tip,
Fam trippin’ assumin’ I’m off the rick,
takin’ trees to get chopped, makin’ G’s off top.
Tryna do like King Kong ‘n make it to the top.
Yeah, we all been makin’ sacrifices,
takin’ chances like rollin’ dices,
doin’ dis make hearts colder than ice is;
but bruh we need to try dis, hit da school house,
get better advise and live life right.
‘Cause if them alphabets catch us tonight,
we could be facin’ life
and I’m tryna steer you right,
‘cause what we’re doing ain’t right.
So cold turkey to a saint, if I was a monkey I’d faint,
Talkin’ like them Congo crazy apes, betta whip it into shape,
‘n check face.
I run this place like Michael Johnson,
Quarterbackin’ like Steve Young,
Runnin’ through cats like Ronnie Lott,
Gaudi can’t touch what I’ve got.
Peep dis hot shot.
Quarterbackin’ like Steve Young,
but now you try’na run. Choose one.
We ryde so let’s ryde an continue on the low,
Increasing the gugle flow.
How ‘bout dis? Drop the grind, spend some time, on a business hype.
Do like Bill Gates, and open gates ‘n move up in dis place,
Like Jay-Z, ‘cause 99 problems an’ da’ police ain’t one
On a business hype legit stackin’ chips without a gun.
Dat’s a safety, you movin’ backward. Gettin’ hit, sticked like Lamont Jordan.
Sacked like Culpepper, dis is what I know how to do, you grindin’ fuh da crew, Why you trippin’? I’m like hot fish grease sittin’ in this seat,
Try’na explain to you, but you wanna make beef.
Ain’t body tryna make beef,
I’m tryna change this game. It makes me feel ashamed
Dat people mom’s get robbed ‘n we da ones to blame,
You want your kids to do the same?
I want better for mine,
But you lettin’ the B.S. blind you,
I’m tryna get Jesus to come and find you.
We gotta stay true to the crew,
Besides, dis all we know how to do,
What I’m suppose to do if I can’t help keep my fam’s rent slight weight paid? Bein’ helpless ain’t a Jack of my trade.
It’s dat time to go get some new trades,
And flip back like flap jacks, can’t you imagine dat?
Learnin’ somethin’ dat won’t get you locked up?
Not lookin’ over yo’ shoulder, thinkin’ bout gettin’
Who you got to shook?
On top of dat, learnin’ something new
to make it the legal way ta make yo’ fam proud,
an take you out that bad crowd
of dark clouds, stormy nights,
an thunder soundin’ gun fights.
You gotta meet me half way.
I still ain’t fillin’ what you gotta say.
But I hear it. Stack real hard den shake the game,
‘bout to move to Sac so follow an do the same.
Why you movin’ to Sac?! An I think I can do that,
But when we done, we done, no grindin’, not even a little one.
It’s perfect like a picture, an’ dem cops can’t get ya,
Shake da spot to Sac, grind hard den come back, an’ get our lives off whack.
That’s official, like a Zebra’s whistle. I’m wit it, let’s get it.
(hug and handshake) Remember everything. Don’t ever forget it.
(MALACHI leaves the stage)
(to audience) We did it hard in Sac. Me an’ my fam didn’t like it up there so everything worked like is was ‘pose to and we came back to the Snake Free City. Malachi died a while later. I’m still tryna get my head right, but I’ma be alright as long as I do right. Follow a higher power, get these book smarts, do it big and legal. Matter of fact- started yesterday.