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I'm so good at poems I'm like Karl Marx
Pop tarts
Karl was the best poet

I don't know why I'm so good at poetry
It's just my skill, Phil
Dr. Phil, Bobby Hill, Flour Mill

I have all the dope rhymes
I like to eat red vines and read the New York Times
Why are you so bad at poems?
Stop being bad and be good, I wish you could

Binary Code is so poemy
Just so insanely good

I'm the best poet to ever live
Mom

The plaza is filled with creeps
Sitting along the concrete
***** smelly feet
Untrustworthy gas station meat

I lean up against the wall
See a man who's very tall
Beside an old lady who's about to fall

Granny stumbles around, dazed and confused
Doesn't even know which pills to choose
Asks tall guy which ones to take
Guy blows her off like candles on a cake

I interject, "Can I help you, ya old hag?"
Gran gran then opens the bag

I gaze upon the pills
The entire pack is filled
Stuff like this could go for many dollar bills

Granny says, "I need my Tuesdays."
I tell her, "Lady do you even read due dates?"

I don't know gran, you're on your own
You're gonna hafta figure this one out alone

Bus rolls up an somethins queer
Some pretty sketchy characters filling up the rear
So I take a seat up front, straight up Rosa parks
Weirdos left an right with their ****** birth marks

Guys with beards so long they could choke a man with em
Mexi with a ****, two others smokin with him
Many oddities line all up and down the bus
So I turn my frown upside down and try not to cuss

Alpine

So does he thank that deep down there sa meaning to my stuff?
Or maybe you think this is all off the cuff

Rough
Tough
Buffy fly like a bird out a the sky
Do yo think I'm high,

I'm a cool such a cool guy

Yyeeeee!

Exclamatory you


Clinton is a complete hack aye shank you


And the is die his tort my

Mien omn thiosulfate. The sanity yo
it's tots out the window





**

You hit. A flopped an fit lien to then bgs. .,. S€€


You knew. That wingding sis my tots fav font you know this




,,.h so you're is Tia dim a frog

And this frig lies till I lie in ab oboe






I'm a g I'm. P and and op g




So I'd you want to fight me I just might ***, Yee

Sit down, an buckle that belt

Take a ride on the moon sand and magic felt, yow!

I'll bet your feeling wild and free like a dear pelt

Dat be true but yo some moe gold for me to smelt , cool!


Yeee, this is called a real sick one ,

Don't fight back or ima gonna flick one ,, slang!

Just like that I'm gonna turn back and attack

Gonna roll with my rap and Neva look back



I'm cool, and the bast rep per to ever exist I **** all other rappers
Fight me