"bumpin" poems
mind frozen
body tense
I keep telling myself that I care about spiritual growth
but **** it all to hell
i want to be close in the biblical sense
somewhere there's bumpin' and grindin' happening this very minute.
intimacy intimacy, i tell myself
feel my feelings
i've been numb to my ****** feelings
i get all this, but sometimes ****** thoughts and feeling hit me so hard.
i don't know what to do with them, they just mess up my head.
i want serenity.
i want peace.
i want some wisdom in all this.
i am not a monk.
i do not want to be celibate,
but **** I don't want to be overwhelmed either.
For now I am embracing my *** crazed thoughts, but not acting on them.
i am more than my thoughts and feelings.
i am.
Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
Obama jetted
back to Africa
soaring aloft on
gulf stream swank
a posse of
oil company execs
in tow, intent on liberating
Dark Continent
fossil fuels from unjust
underground prisons
American
entrepreneurs
angling to get the
upper hand in the
high stakes global
resource poker game
pulled a big time race card
to trump China’s
full house
On Goree Island,
political paparazzi
popped and clicked
a perfect image
of the neocolonial
white clad President
framed in a doorway filled
with dark shadows and
heinous memory of the
unspeakable horrors
of global trade
leering from
the portal at the
Gate of No Return
Obama welled with
meditative epiphanies
of personal seachange,
and the vicissitudes of life,
pondering his meteoric rise
from a Land of Lincoln
State Senator to
American President
in the span of
one golden
9/11 decade
At a
South African University
Town Hall Summit,
the fist bumpin,
mike droppin Prez
telepromted the
star struck folks with
solemn universal civil rights
pronouncements,
wrapped in the riddle of
the pursuit of peace,
hidden in the enigma of
the reverence for
human dignity
Later in the day
Mr. Obama sat at the
feet of a comatose Mandela;
whispering into his ear
why an Afghan peace
eludes him, why his
drone strikes rain
death upon innocents
and why his democratic
republic defiles
the civil liberties of its
citizens to ransom
a daily diet of fear
But Madiba does not hear
Mr. Obama’s feverish
confessions; his
ears are closed,
he dreams only
of the paradise of
liberation he earned
for his life's hard wages
Music Selection:
Gil Scott Heron
Western Sunrise
Oakland
070213
jbm
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 11:14 AM UTC
This is for all my battle buddies, HOOAH!
Serving in Iraq,
Serving in Afghanistan.
With a grainy, sandy, hot, and humid desert surrounding you.
Looking into miles of nothing.
Always ready, always on patrol, ready to roll.
Ducking your head to re-load in the middle of the firefight.
Taking a stand against the evils of the world.
To my battles with integrity,
We all bleed the same,
Fighting for freedom of the Red, White, and Blue
Live green die green
Scream it with me at the top of your lungs:
HOOAH!
Soldier people;
This for all the clowns that play Video Games
Talking that 1337 (LEET) speak
Owning some newbs for fun
Screaming at the little kids that they ****
I’m taking on the girls 1 versus 1
Passing by the hours staring at the screen
Drinking Mountain Dew, and eating skittles
Sniping people with your M4,
Blowing them up as they walk through the door
Gamer people;
This is for all my Tech-y nerds
Working with computer components
Make sure you stay grounded
We don’t want an electrical eruption
I hated Network Theory,
But I still didn’t get a B.
The “have you tried restarting,” people.
Surfing the Internets, refer to Wikipedia people.
Tech people;
This is for all the Snowboard bums,
We ride hard, but still chill
Jumping in front of the skiers for a mighty thrill
We do it for an Adrenaline rush
Boardin’ through the trees,
And the snow that is white and plush
Snowboard people;
This is for all the Music lovers
That let the beat move their souls
Bumpin’ to the rhythm
Dancing out of control
Let the beat take you away
Fist pump yourself into the night,
Even though I can’t dance, ‘cause I’m White.
Music people.
Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 9:43 PM UTC
I think the Illuminati is real
And your body's the peel and your soul is the fruit
And they goal is to steal and control all the juice
I seen way too many pyramids, that's from from Kufu
Foofoo ****** out here snaking on the reggo
You should ask a snake where its legs go
But then again I'm smoking on the medical
Got the white owl look like an egg roll
And that was Scooby snacks, Petco
I'm a lunatic that belong inside a loony bin
I burned it down for you because I love you
Now I'm movin' in
Ooh a condominimum, ****** in ya enema
Bumpin' Kanye like it just came out
No songs with Kendrick, we just hang out
They say a smart man looks like a mad man to a dumb man
But one man... wait I'm tweakin'
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
I caught myself head bobbing to ******
leaking red ink on vinyl
keep the track spinning
doing rounds of H-bomb clouds
all white got my head on tight
got my nose off right
check the center
if I could see it
muddled beats lead to reaps
Jack's a busy man
death a grave business
all trades
he deals diamonds for profits
sick the Hound
he's got no time for games
thrones be melted down
set the mold for a caravan
desert eagles circle corpses
warm body, not for long
heat brings in the winter
tore snow through his soul
**** I thought blacks ain't like cold
they nod to that **** you give it a hook though
caught up in the bait
cheap and shiny
rock their life away
as it drums in the ear
keep the bass bumpin
mama'll keep pumping the tears
gassed up with super diesel
you gotta peep the subliminal
laced up in the air
inecessant bumble of the bees
got a sting like no chaser
wait to explode, to exhale, to bust
oozie laid to rest
patient is revenge
but always with a righteous fist
BOOM!
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 12:33 AM UTC
It's been a year since I dropped out
Been more than busy, there's no doubt
Didn't mean to step before I left somthin'
That lit your soul on fire and got your hearts pumpin'
I'll lay down words that get the rhythm bumpin'
Don't need music when the words are thumpin'
It's been a year since I dropped out
I'm back y'all so scream and shout
I still got the rhymes that make words hop
And the liguistic skills to make the beats drop
I hit bottom but now I'm back on top
I'm back for writin' and to talk shop
It's been a year since I dropped out
It made the women cry and my boys pout
Don't worry y'all, I'm back to lay em on ya
I missed y'all, especially you Rick, Bex, and Tonya
Though y'all didn't make the list, I'm still fond of ya
I left in a Limo and drove back in a Honda
It's been a year since I dropped out
Been more than busy, there's no doubt
I'm back y'all, so scream and shout
I'll make the women smile and show em all what I'm about
It been a year since I dropped out
Been more than busy' there's no doubt
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
Bartender,
Pour me a drink
Bourbon on the rocks.
Why is this music so loud?
so flashy and colorful.
Lovers dancing,
Trumpets blaring
The bass bumpin’…
people are having fun,
enjoying themselves.
I dare to let a smile creep across my face
as the ashes fall from my cigarette
My eyes close as the music
grows softer but the people still dance…
smoke clouds the air as the colors dull into the night…
on the beach
with a drink and a smoke,
the reggae band pumpin’ it out,
the guitar wailing,
keyboard buzzing
people are laughing
enjoying themselves
and living life –
no regrets
funny –
I remember life having responsibilities and being stressful.
A long drag from my cigarette
and I close my eyes as the tropical breeze
turns back into a cloud of smoke
my eyes open –
the band still jammin’
the bar jammed just as much
the smile’s gone as I sigh
oh look – Billie Holiday’s up next
pour me another drink Bartender.
the night is young
and I don’t wanna go home.
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 3:21 PM UTC
A couple wuz beading up
for a chi chi day
She drunkenly laughed
**** stained her dress
A olive skin woman
in golden glitter pasties
Offered neon *** shots
near 10 in the morning
A chubby girl dressed
in a black fishnet body suit
selling face paintings
while her supple *******
Jiggled in your face
A black man occupied
A most different plain
Sat behind two chess boards
wasn't gettin paid
Two SAP cars parked
At Royal Sonesta curb
idling to taxi exec sappers
back to the friendly skies
****** whippin glitter girl
Shakin her money maker
Lookin hard at her wares
What the hell she sellin?
Across the street
miked up bible thumper
Doin his groove thing
Raged against the ***** show
Ca ching ca ching ca ching
I ducked a bity bee
Flying at my face
I'm walkin Bourbon
Full of mighty grace
Hard Rock Guys
selling cannabis lollis
crowded corners bumpin
Ain't no trollies
boom box blastin
back beat samples
Who Dat Jazz?
muskrat rambles
Three card monte
Obstructive beggers
Kids banging on
5 gallon drums
Gimme a dime mister
Louie Armstrong Park
Congo Square
Where it at?
Gotta get there
***** Glitter still barking
Mardi ****** Gras tees
Snapchat Me Your *****
Ducked another bee
Kid put his two pails
In mid of the rue
Gotta pay the toll
Whatcha gunna do?
Music:
Mardi Gras Music
From NOLA Notes
2/18/17
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
If I were a man
I would ask out a girl just for the hell of it
Because either way ive been waiting far too
Long to try that restaurants grilled halibut
I would sag my pants down low
In any given social situation
I would wake up in the middle of the night with a cold sweat
Fearing that doctors castration
And in the same situation I would burp real loud
Because I drank too much beer
Or ate too many chips
And what is a man to do
other than flip his own scripts
and rip on other men’s trips
and say, “dude you’re so gay”
if I were a man
I’d probably put bumpin’ speakers in
My Honda civic
And id bust out loud rap as I turned and whipped it
In front of all the pretty girls
The ones with hair curled and necklaces made of my pearls
Ones I wouldn’t call back because I paid attention in math
And knew the male to female ratio was 1 to 4
And that left me with 3 other girls to score
But sense I am not a man
And according to them I am some-what less than
I’ll belt my pants suffer your ****** glance
Deny you a dance and instead of implants
I will wish for a transplant.
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 2:34 PM UTC
*** inta a funky blues roll
swing silent low piano
trippin down tinky tink keys
stumble the mumbled muffled horns
wha wha the humble orchastra roars
it swings a choo choo
tracks changin
bass a bumpin
du du du du
walkin through the room
Spoon croons a bellowed ballad
an Ella cat do a hair raisin ****
tink tink
you don't have ta think
you know what you feel
dis blues is fo real
For Prez
jbm
10/12/86
NYC
Music Selection:
Count Basie Band with
Ben Webster, Roy Eldridge and Jimmy Rushing
I Left My Baby
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 8:40 AM UTC
Each time we get together,
we’re bumpin’ heads
tryin’ to start something
and not be able to finish it
we’re just tryin’ to get the kinks out
whoo hoo
can’t get it down perfect on our first try
we got to work on this together
talking to you, talking to me
brain stormin’ on ideas on what to do
we’re just tryin’ to get the kinks out
whoo hoo
not everything’s going to turn out right
on our first trip down the road
i’m crazy and so are you
come on and get’s this machine movin’
we’re just tryin’ to get the kinks out
whoo hoo
Temper’s flarin’, the top’’s busted out loose
losin’ steam on things
we gotta keep on tryin’
don’t get frustrated
we’re just tryin’ to get the kinks out
whoo hoo
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 9:56 PM UTC
Pins in a haystack
Needles in the cushion
A knack knick whack-a-patty
Push n tha' tooshin
Waggle wiggle bumpin thump
hungry hippos roast a ****
Candy apple, hide-n-seek
Count to ten, you best not peek
Wormy wiggle, rigga ma roll
rat-rug boat-tug sac-de-Cul
Almost done, have words with fun
Yup giddy yup giddy, "Run Forrest Run!!!"
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC
Caught an intellect from the beams of a flashin' tech
Skies open fools still hopin'
more corrupt than Kenneth Copeland yo I ain't
Jokin' words carefully spoken
From Houston to Oakland me ghettos we all kin
Born in sin so I was made for lusting put my trust in
My nine millimeter soon to beat cha if ya
Not fast with ya draw man this a southside gang
And We running thangs comin' back on track like a
boomerang
Haters love to sing chirpin' like early birds
I move the herds the black Sheppard
testing nerves
Check my lac banked on the curb hit a taste of the herb
To calm my brain cells light a fire see visions of Hell
I inhale free my mind from jail caught in this fairy tale
Thought this world was made for me but it ain't see?
The devil's laughing at me cuz I took the plea of insanity
Expose my mind through pens and papers
Towerin' empires past the
skyscrapers
traces of flowin' vapors
Disappear then reappear back on the atmosphere
But still i ain't here a ghost in a
shell
Pass the seven gates of chakras
cells
Gather my intel from my enemies that sail
Undercover lover to ya mother
mentally
See me I create energy powerful enough
To call out any bluff keep it rough
and rugged
So **** it since most chicken ya feathers
Gettin' plucked givin' up the what?
The funk that is
From Rosemary's kids made in
Hades
Check the tens bumpin' in the
Mercedes
I'm old school rock big jewels pinky
rings
Diamond bezels shining and still
blinding
Sip Tennessee whiskey out the glass cup
Flashback it's the return of King
Tut
Speak bad watch the raw clips keep ya mouth shut
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
over looking at the bad focused on the good
too bad im motivated to escape the hood
in and out of this ***** im better off without
over letting the haters fill my mind with doubt
im going to be the best i see that for myself
others make excuses learned to go without
ive been there done that i need new ****
you could quit make me look better
while you keep doing bad why you mad
keep on bumpin keep on finding the sound
im going to walk this town head high
well known all around just be myself
shes my type well see what happens
and if i get what i want and like
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
I been bumpin frank Sinatra
I been chillin with these mobsters
Perfect Italian girl put the parmesan upon the pasta
We had white sauce on the angel hair
We were sipping on the pinot
Her hair was black as mine,
but her skin look like a kilo
Thighs look like a hundred grand
Eyes green like a c- note
Liquid nitrogen in her veins
The tongue game ****** she wrote
She whispers fortunes in my ear
While tracing plans upon my skin
Lead me to a life of sin
Then gave the roulette a gentle spin.
I never gave her a wedding ring
I proposed to her with the shell
wedding dress was made by Prada
The coloration red as hell
Showin fangs in a crooked smile that she hid behind her veil
Death upon her breath, it turned the atmosphere stale
Unholy matrimony pastor trying to hide his thorns
Ring bearer bared his fangs
flower girl throwing thorns
Bridemaids holding bouquets made of wilted lillies
She drove a knife through my heart and said
“ baby do you feel me?”
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 4:59 PM UTC
Have never known such beauty until last night. Skin to skin our weighted bodies passed through a house with ease. Patrone stung the throats of eager souls trying to find themselves in the night. Shot glasses raised high above heads and my smile penetrated the darkness. **** hits and low hip dips we held the night in our hands. It was easy to get lost with those beautiful arms pulling you in a thousand directions. Hidden cool rooms and teens reaching their doom I was completely consumed. Pale skin and heavy laughter her arms held my dizzy head as always. She cooled me off and led me back to familiar arms. Side glances and smoke filled lungs I heard cinema by skrillex bumpin through me. That night dissolved into me.
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 6:04 PM UTC
(for tara)
fourteen years ago
we became sisters
and found instant
(colorful) reflections of
ourselves
in each other
you are
the sole observer
of the
humble and
beautiful beginnings (they always seem so nice)
the l i f e
(the dream, tara, the dream)
the hope
the utter despair
and ruin
of my love. of my heart.
you are
my moon
in synchronous orbit
checking on me
pulling me into you
when i am
nothing, tara,
but a wretched
sobbing
heap...
listening to my
incoherent sobs
for hours
your voice soothing,
"i know, amanda, i know..."
and now
as i barely have
my face
above water
...gasping for air
i see you plunge
into the water
beside me
s
i
n
k
i
n
g
tara
you are me
and i will catch you
and drag you
out of this ********
if it's the last thing i do
i don't know why
we cannot see
in ourselves
what we so plainly
see in each other
but in the mirror
i see first your beautiful smile
(so genuine)
the way you naturally
physically reach out to
people and touch them lightly
on the arm or hand or shoulder...
it radiates this warmth around you
that is magnetic and puts everyone at ease
then your
******* beautiful hair
that i have been
jealous of for
fourteen years
beautiful tumbling
waves that shine in the light
...then those eyes
amber deep
with a sparkle
to go with
that smile and laugh
and i'm sorry, girl
but your body
is banging...
you have always looked
like a spanish dancer
to me...like you should
have on a tight, shiny red dress
and should be moving those hips
and bumpin that ***
all over the floor
hair flying...eyes sparkling
men's jaws simply laying on the floor.
when i look in the mirror, sister,
that is what i see
and i am proud
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 12:29 AM UTC
Prayin for a snow day,
a lay at home day.
drinkin hot cocoa, bumpin some old Drake.
like "come winter"
and hope it comes we do!
pimpin season is over
i jus wanna lay here with you.
we know its not that serious,
talkin from experience.
this thing'll probably last a couple months,
maybe a few.
But im down to make it somethin
unforgettable
incredible
typa winter u throw up on a pedastool.
Till just after Valentines,
hear the last romantic chimes.
and pimpin seasons back on,
then you cant be mine,
and neither of us would mind.
at least,
I hope to find.
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
Listen to stories as I spill
Cuz this something that's too **** real
Hard for you to dodge my lyrical collage
So step with me into this reality first
I woke up then I looked up
I see it's a l
Past quarter to nine
And woodys on
At twelve
But forget that verse cuz it was only the spirits in a thirst
Called up a few homies while I'm laying in the bed
Watchin' Wilma and Fred then a thought occured to my head
I told my boys we should go out
Maybe a stripper club or diner
But either way we need to roll out
So I got dressed made sure I was good looking
Check the mirror even it was shooken
Got a make move moving real fast ya see
Cuz I gotta my Posse to G -E -T
My Posse on MLK My Posse on MLK
My Posse On MLK
Now once I pulled up in the big black truck
Ya know the big Tahoe where I tie hoes? Get it
Naw I'm just clowning thinkin a groove so we can start soundin'
Off to beat our vocals meet
We acting real silly up goes the dilly
They playing throwback of Magoo and Timbaland on the track
Way back up jumps the boogie all in me
Now I'm amped with my Posse
We ready to get it crackin'
And no stoppin' us G
Like Reggie Miller on three top of key
Where we all love to meet
We check each other make sure we fresh
Cuz the girlies love to test the way we dress
So we now in the street bass bumpin' with the beat
Gotta admit I had to roll up a swisher sweet
Nothing to see here haters cuz we gettin ready to raid ya
My Posse on MLK My Posse on MLK
My Posse On MLK
As we make into the club I'm feeling real good
But I hate that songs scrubs
Girls stop fronting djs cutting
Got everybody in the club jumpin'
Mens is grinding on girls behinds and
And there me and posse in long line and
Next thing ya know they move us to the front row
VIP status man I'm feeling the baddest
Once we got on set
I told the dj to change the rec so I can show em
How cold me and posse gets
Once I touch the mic their was a long silence
Microphone screeching
But stop once the rhymes started preaching
Everybody nodding having a good time
Out comes the rhymes break em every time
Throwin' hards thrills so ya better chills
Or else my Posse going to rearrange ya grill
Now that ya in a trance with my music
That's makes ya dance
And all this time they had nothing to say
Cuz my Posse to Ill from MLK
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
I keep trying
to finish my
beer but
Miles is playing
Homs with Damascus
on deck like
Green in Blue in
Bashar
and the conservatives,
that is, the Muslim ones
or rather
the extremist ones
that is, ****
there’s good people
dying to a machine gun
bass line
‘dada doo da’
‘dada doo da’
and they all want
the guy gone
but we’re just playing
White Christmas on repeat
trying to drown out
the bass line
but it keeps bumpin’
‘dada doo da’
‘dada doo da’
so I finally take a sip
but it’s sour and
flat and the bass line
is bumpin’ my elbows
and pulling’ at my chest
‘dada doo da’
‘dada doo da’
with a C-4 concerto
that makes Bach
seem irrelevant
and Mozart a spoiled
brat, my god
it’s a sink-hole in
Dm, the last one
on the album that
makes you think,
“Why did they let
this happen?”
‘Dada doo da’
‘Dada doo da’
Oh boy!
It’s enough to really
hang your hat on,
but that’s for another
generation to wonder,
Me-
I’ve got this beer to
finish and the record
keeps skipping
‘dada doo da’
‘dada doo da’
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
Late one night, I took a path
through woods I did not know.
A quicker way, it was I found
to get me to my home.
Dark that night, without a light,
the woods gave up strange sounds.
The shadows of the trees, they seemed
to move across the ground.
I walked a little faster.
My home I longed to see.
But then I heard an eerie howl,
and run I did indeed.
I bumped into some bushes,
I ran into the trees,
The only thought twas in my head
was pray my feet to flee.
My nerves they were a jumpin'
in trees I was a bumpin.
In my chest my heart was thumpin,
when I fell over somthin.
I lay there just a moment,
when two eyes did I see.
No faster man you'll ever be,
than I that night would be.
On my feet I quickly jumped.
My home I now could see.
Then I reached into my pocket
and I fumbled for the key.
Something from the woods I heard,
what horror can this be.
With key in door, I turn to see
my old dog run up to me.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 2:31 PM UTC
i was there and i watched it happen
the clouds danced
to the rhythm of the music
and so did i
they were chromosomes
tightly coiled
into dreams
i was laughing
laughing, and smiling and they kept asking why
but the only valid answer was why not
and she was packing up the bowl
and the beat was bumpin'-
then something
a direct hit
ouch
glass all over me just to remind me how fragile i
am
woe
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 1:13 AM UTC
Everybody get your *** up on the dance floor.
Tonight we gotta show out for Bay Shore.
You got stress? Go ahead and check it at the door.
Let the bass move somethin’, hit you at your core.
Let’s get disconnected,
No phones.
Let these strangers be your friend,
You not alone.
It’s hard to dust it off, trust me I understand.
But it’s hard to be depressed, we partying on sand.
Ain’t none of this was planned, love is in high demand.
We got you covered so why you still acting like you worried?
We gotta capture this for the IG stories.
And you holding back, but it’s alright.
Go and let it loose, cuz it’s alright.
This is our night.
The music’s live and the music’s bumpin’.
Feel the rhythm, feel the rhyme? Cool Runnings.
I’m not tryna get in your pants,
That’s a no no.
I’m tryna show my Charm City dance,
How I go go.
Babylon at noon, Gilgo soon.
Fire pit on Fire Island under the moon.
Move the party to the boat, set sail for the cruise.
Sit back, have a drink, enjoy the views.
I don’t wanna wife you up,
Not this evening.
I only wanna life you up,
I’m just teasing.
I see you working now, come out of that shell.
Don’t you leave here without a story to tell.
Put your hands up, this a celebration.
Give yourself a standing ovation.
Live in the moment, and it’s alright.
Let’s just own this, cuz it’s alright.
This is our night.
A Bay Shore night.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 8:05 PM UTC
Can I have a Penny for your Thoughts
Matter of fact how about 3
A penny for you
A penny for me
And the other one so I can get to know you entirely
I wanna get to know you from the neck . up
I wanna know what gets you mad enough to punch walls
I wanna know your pet peeves
I wanna know how far your smile goes when your smiling like an idiot
I wanna know if you sleep on the left or right side
I wanna know your favorite position. . In football
I wanna know if you even like football
I wanna know where you see your self in 5 years
If not 5 years, I wanna know what you're planning to eat tonight
I wanna know you're mind set when push comes to shove
I wanna know how long can you last..
In the intimate game of starring at eachother
I wanna know your shoe size.
Because if I ever decide to fall for you,
I'll be like yea he was a size 12
I wanna know what drives you crazy
I wanna know how far you'd take things . .
In Life
I wanna know if I were to kiss you,
Would you be Hard . . To get or would I already have you
I wanna know what gets you annoyed
So I'll make sure I'll annoy You twice a day
I wanna know if your good in card games
So we can play crazy rights until 3am
I wanna know if you ever been hurt
So I can show you that it's different
I wanna know if your ready . .
Because I already sat down and buckled my seat belt
I wanna know if one day I wake up to you, you'd tell me my favorite 3 words
"Are you hungry?"
I wanna know what makes your mouth water. .
I wanna know if you a are you full or where's the dessert type of guy
I wanna know if we're driving at 2am
Would you be able to tell me your hopes and dreams
I wanna know if your ticklish
So if your ever not smiling I get to make you smile
I wanna know if you prefer lights on or off. . .
When playing PS4 or Xbox
I wanna know if you sing in the shower
I wanna know if your into taking pictures . .
Because Id save all your silly pictures
I wanna know if you wanna make a movie. . .
Of a lifetime with me
I wanna know your insecurities
So I can love them the most
I wanna know what type of songs you listen to,
So when ever we decide to go on a road trip
We be bumpin
I wanna know if you get one of those little attitudes when your jealous
I wanna know how to never lose your attention
I wanna know if you'd be able to love me because I have battle scars
I wanna know if you think about me as much as I think about Honey buns
I wanna know if you look at me and say
"man she loves to eat"
I wanna know if you like silly nicknames
I'll give you something like Sugarpapi .
I wanna know if a writer falls in love with you, would you want to live forever
Because words never die
So therefore,
Can I have a penny for your thoughts
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 9:25 PM UTC
It's a top down
Doors off
Wind rushin
Music bumpin
People laughin
Crazy drivin
Sun in the sky
Feelin high
Best friends
Grabbin hands
Kind of day.
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC