Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2019
Mowing down competition like I a Gatling gun, got des fools on deh run.
Do this **** for fun, and I'm big and I love puns.
Name sadly already taken, oh well My names good and Nonetheless I be grappling these hooks hoping I don't reel in the kraken.  
I be cracking yawl up all night,  so what if we slack off a bit it's ok for we need to relax some nights.
Long days with strong or weak power plays, and days were emotions run a muck and life doesn't conform to our ways.
Rattling the war drums, rebelling because we tired of eating measly crumbs.
Get out the Gatling gun for its open season, time to teach these ***** a lesson.
Realize recognition and watch out for false perception in your cognition.
For eyes can lie so be wary and skeptical and never take bribes.
Real recognize real, if I ever fake myself again I’ll probably take a cyanide pill.
If I ever conform I would probably chug some chloroform.
If I ever cheat on my girl for some other *****, instead of dealing with the aftermath I’d probably drink some bleach. Go on a milk run and try to avoid the Gatling gun.
What the ****, why the ****, who the ****, where the ****, how the ****.
Get out the equalizer and go klick klick bang, the ting go gaa gaa blang.
Hit them wit de gat, swing it like it were a bat.
Floor ya to the mat, be like de earth cause you’ll go flat.
What ya tink aboot dat, mess wit de hammer yawl go splat.
Uh for real, de gun I gotta conceal, so don’t get all hasty man ******* chill. Macaroni, alimony, melancholy kinda funny once ya know de story.
Rain drop stained mop, living in de hood like what up my glip glops.
Going spaced out like I’m in a space ship, took some lcd recently that’s what I call a space trip.
It’s just basic rocket science and don’t mind me if I’m not compliant your highness.
I’m the finest with bars riddled with finesse, it’s like a Gatling gun putting bullets to thee chest.
Hold up shut the **** up, pause while a chug some lean from a big red cup.
Not for the weak minded, got gats for poor sneaky blinded folk cause ya got to keep it 100.
What the fickle popsicle gotta giggle for I’m not just a rickle in time for not just anyone can turn themselves into a pickle. Riggety recked, got out the Gatling gun so best hit the deck.
When I plan to paint this town.
Because I don’t **** with clowns.
Classy J
Written by
Classy J  27/M/Medicine Hat
(27/M/Medicine Hat)   
162
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems