Do or Die: The Poetic Saga of Street Life with Basketball Star & Shaykh Ibrahim Jaaber

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Dive deep into the raw truths of street life as hoops star and Shaykh, Ibrahim Jaaber, masterfully weaves his experiences on and off the court at the Muslimi Lifestyle Expo. From the scars of his soul to the sanctuary of the basketball court, immerse yourself in this poetic journey. 🌆🏀 #MuslimLifestyleExpo #BasketballLife #IbrahimJaaber

Lyrics:
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Life is like a game of basketball. Do or die. You either pass up your dreams or learn to shoot for the sky and I wasn't trying to live my life playing one-on-one with strife, stuck in a trap, running laps between a gun and a knife. The hood is good for wasting away your talents and taking away your balance and shaking you up in a way that makes you afraid to face a challenge. I mean, how do you keep your eyes on the rim when you gotta dodge bullets just to get to the gym? They say basketball is life and the streets is where you train and one thing it taught me is how to stay in my lane, how to march through the madness, how to play through the pain, how to come back from nothing just to save the game. If you can block out the shots when the streets get loud then you shouldn't have a problem ignoring a screaming crowd. I grew up in somewhat of a rowdy arena, packed houses filled with a bunch of American dreamers and amateur with a cloudy demeanor but the hardcore terrain crafted a leader. My atmosphere was packed with fear. I could hear the screams loud and clear. Another young boy with a short career, a tough loss left the crowd in tears. Question, is there really any way out from here or am I wasting my time putting on this practice gear? Running sprints till my clothes was drenched, going home to my mother with holes to stitch. You see my soul was ripped and patched up with hopelessness. Everything but my ego told me to quit. Don't waste your energy, go ahead and get it over with. I made a choice. I made a choice to ignore the voice of doubt and block out the noise, man up or end up in an endless void. Passed down from men to boys, the same game that left my friends destroyed. I decided. I decided that I would be the one to survive it, to rise above the others and sidestep the violence. In my own zone, a prolonged moment of silence. Walking the streets, bouncing my heartbeat over the concrete, deep in thought with my dreams that arms reach. When I step foot on the court, it's like I entered into an invisible fort. Bulletproof jersey and shorts. Basketball was more than a sport. It was a place of resort. A home away from home, an indestructible bunker in the middle of a war zone. A shelter for the needy, a clinic for the sick. A window in a prison, a life vest on a sinking ship, oblivious to the bullets that were breezing by my head. If it wasn't for basketball and Allah's mercy, I might have been dead. Thank you.