Up Your Nose
From befo time, I was small
You know da kine, fo evah in front da school pichas.
My bruddah an me used to walk up da hill fo school
Afta school, we all da time run down hill
Fo stay in front guys dat chase us.
So den, my fuddah wen teach me, one girl,
How fo box.
My bruddah neva like learn das why, he one shy boy,
I rememba even today wot my fuddah sed:
Curl your fist tight but no put da tumb insai
O else you going broke’um wen you punch sumbahdee.
I was da oldest kid in my family
So choke times I fight my brudduh’s battles.
One time, tree beeg haole boys wen crowd him
Like nayba dogs going in fo da kill
Ho Man! I run so fast an wen grab one 2 by 4 to geev’um
My muddah wen yell at me from da kitchen window
I wen stop…da lucky buggas.
Growing up small is tough, no matta you one boy o girl
But you know wot, you learn fo scrap o be scrapped.
Which one you tink is me—
Guess wrong an I going yell:
Up Your Nose Wit One Rubba Hose!
Das me flipping you da bird
Wit some class, local style.