An upright brotha
Daily striving to make ends meet
With sore muscles and tired feet
Yet still rising while stifling a yawn
Head held high and no man's pawn
As he presses on
With a full and a part-time
So he can bit-by-bit "come-up"
No longer counting each crumb
Or every drop in his cup
Proud of the strides he's made
And with every check cashed, he's paid
His dues
Until one day....he made the news

An uptight brotha
Nightly meeting to make them ends
On the sweat of others, is what he depends
So, he waits for a "come-up" on a pay-day night
A victim ripe for the pickings...to ease his plight
Of monetary desperation
Believing he's entitled to compensation
In spite of his life's choices
Having ignored all the voices
Which spurred him to education or occupation
Instead, he relies on expectation and exploitation.....

While the upright brotha
Walked home humming "Friday Night" by Johnny Kemp
Now with even more money in the bank since he gave up the hemp
So, worn but content, he looked forward to a hot bath to soak his aches
But, that "uptight brotha" lived by the lines of Kurtis Blow's "The Breaks"....

Two men with opposite means of "making them ends"
One by sweat
The other, by threat
A macabre game of life or death...the loser gets the last breath.