....I was and still am shook of my mom tho 
Was in the back vibin'. My dad saw me, looked away, looked back again and told one of the ushers to tell me to get inside. Long story my dad came home because my mom and I didn't go to second service. He whipped me like a fukking slave breh. Like he wasn't even hitting my butt, he tearing my back up. I threw up and shyt, my mom said let me be. He was like "NOOOO that boy gonna learn! That boy gonna learn!" He continue to beat me for like 15 more minutes. I still have heart-attacks going to church.
Moms used to whoop my ass then my dad came home for round 2
Had a nikka feelin like he was in a WWE Tag-Team match
DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 
I used to try to save myself by doing extra chores, gettin my mom a glass of ice water, reminding her that Oprah was about to come on, etc. She'd be all like "oh, thanks Piff. You did a good job." I was all
then my dad would get home and moms would be like "guess what your son did! fukked up my whole day, couldn't even make you any food."
at every thunderous crack of the belt coming with it's own word
I don't think there are a lot of black kids who went through this particular thing
.............your mom picks you up that evening and is just talking to you like normal in the car...then about halfway home shes says, "I got a call from your teacher today..."...then you get that ultimate hot flash feeling come over you....and all you can respond with is, "huh?" So then she tells you everything the teacher told her, and you sitting there saying, "mama, that's not evne what happened....this other person was talking to me, so I was just tellin' him..."
So then you almost cryin by the time you get in, and ask, "you ain't gon' tell daddy are you?"
So you go in, thinking you're gonna punish yourself and maybe she won't tell him. So you sitting there on the sofa, with the TV off, you're stomach is turning knots, and you're looking at the VCR clock because you know you're father is gonna be home any minute, but you're hoping that maybe he stopped off at the store or is getting off late tonight. Meanwhile, you're mom is in the bedroom watching her recorded episode of "All My Children", it's so quiet in the house and you're so nervous, you can hear every word. You walk in there and try to make small talk, like, "M-m-mama, a-ain't that the character that died last week?" So you go back to the sofa, sit down and a few mins later, you faintly, but loudly hear some keys butting up against the door lock, then your hear them go into the lock and the door opens. Now you know you're mom is gonna tell, but you're holding out hope that she won't. You're father has to know something is wrong, because you're sitting there on the sofa with no TV on.
So he goes into the bedroom, you're listening to hear whats going on, and then you quietly hear, "(your name)'s teacher called me at work today...."
Then after that, you know in a matter of minutes it's all over with for you, you're father get's the belt and commences to go to work on you.
Gettin ya ass beat until ya food cools and then bein told to eat those cold vegetables
eating one at a time til he decides an ass whopping is gon make me eat faster 
the memories flooding my mind
at my mom letting my pops do wrestling moves on me and shyt with no regard for my safety. Yall nikkas is lucky yall got whipped with belts. Pops was throwing slaps and punches. A nikka use to bruise easily as a youngin. I dont bruise no more 
. She whooped the shyt out of me. I thought it was done and was laying in the bed later on. Then I hear my dad come home and I swear he walked in looking at me like 
that shyt NEVER worked
Old boy still come in the room with the belt likewake the fukk up
thinking I had dodged a big bullet; pops usually had to leave for work at like 6:00 AM. I woke up to a beating... Moms tearing up my upper half, pops putting in work on my lower extremities.... As I became fully conscious of what was going on, I clearly remember my pops telling my moms, "shut the door so the nikka can't get out if he runs....." 
"SHUT UP!" *WHAP* "I SAID SHUT UP!" And I would be thinking "nikka, stop beating me, and I'll gladly shut up"... But as I got older, he'd get the belt, come at me, give me a shot, and I'd be like 
then he'd look at me like 
then double up on it. I'd still try to be like but that lower lip would be quivering... Pops would put the beating down harder and harder till I was screamin, then he'd be like 
