These new cool gangstas aint got nothing on the O.G.’s,
The original G.’s,

The Pistol packin, dynamite in petite packages, the ‘child I’m old school I don’t play dat,’
O.G.’s.
They demand that granddaughters wear the fluffiest dresses & the world’s itchiest stockings
Shiny new shoes, pressed hair, curls too
Especially on Sundays when all the O.G.’s sit on the first & second pews quotin’ all the scriptures & screamin “Amen Bishop, that’s the truth!”
They rock the freshest curls from their ancient roller sets
Eyeglasses, O.G’s don’t mix contacts with cataracts treat them at LASIK Dallas
Red lipstick & snapping dentures, extra denture cream in the fanny pack
Up to neck shirts
Tucked into waistbands of pants & skirts
Knee high stockings & sneakers or other shoes that can never be worn to church
& on Sundays the fanny pack is replaced with the historic purse
The one that holds the candy store, the world’s biggest belt & the pistol just in case somebody
needs to get hurt
O.G.’s don’t hustle but their bank accounts overflow
They get money from their first job & let that interest grow
Always buying what they want ‘cuz they got money to blow
Thankful for life to live so they gotta live it up
Wake up
In the morning time just to see the sun come up
Rub the handle of Bessie the double barrel shot gun; come to rob the house you will get shot up
Slavin over hot stoves, skillets poppin C-R-I-S-C-O
Inhale the taste of bacon, exhale the taste of toast
Brew the fresh coffee, aroma make you wiggle yo toes
Spoiling
Spoiling is their field of work
Grandchildren’s faces covered with sweets & never ending smiles
Puppies, chubby with wagging tales & smiling eyes
Hypocritical to spankings because discipline can only be given at certain times
& the look only burns holes when it comes from their eyes
Always resting in peace
Leaving those they loved to fight over what they loved &
Cherish memories sweeter than tropical punch kool-aid
This is a shoutout to every grandma, every true O.G. in America today
You are the sugar of life
How else could lemonade be so sweet?

Keiyetta Guyon was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where she still lives.

This poem originally appeared in Poetry to the People, published by This Land Press. Available for purchase at thislandpress.com/store