As the mau-mauing brigade heads downtown to the welfare office, they run into the chief flak catcher.

With their hair half up, and dressed demurely in black formalwear, they seemed like lost girls and conveyed little beyond a vague sense of urgency and dread; sure technicians all, they are not yet artists able to make their lashing limbs and inscrutable gestures mean something.

He checks retreat; then turning back his course, Remounts the wave , and thro the mingled roar Of ice and storm , reseeks the hostile shore

So when I tell people where I'm from and check their reactions, I know in my heart I'm just frontin’. Because the way and where I lived then pales when compared to the way and where many youths are living today.