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Poetic T Feb 2020
You were coming at me like you
                               got crew.
But you all boys, not men you
              pretend to be.

More like a baby sitting club,
         sitting watching Sesame Street.



Well I got crew,

and guess what,
             there counting down


on you and your
                                                               boys.


One dead, two dead, three and four,
    you still bad mouthing us... guess what
                        we got more finger to count more.

5,6,7,8 more crew sleeping in the morgue..

Guess what you ain't got no crew no more.

You the big yellow bird squawking like you got
     room in your cage, but my boys caught you.

Now we plucked that attitude from your feathers,
                  I don't hear disrespect  just tears that fall.

I'm the cookie monster and I'm all street,
                     I'll eat up your neighbourhood
and you you'll be selling crumb's on the
corner for me.


         I'm the monster that your mum
said would be scaring you.

— The End —