"bungaloo" poems
i smoke the ****** people take a wiff
i cant tie ma shoes but i can *** yo *****
i walk that streets wit my boombastic reggae styl
we go to ma doops bungaloo and he says *** and stay a while
we find some bittys wit a fat *** and tell them theat they fine
they say we're creeps witout jobs we say they need some wine
turns out they werent down to *** like an assembly line
tired i go home down tha empty reggae street
i light tha **** i light tha spliff till i cannot feel my feet
a car puls up i drop my cup they say to get in the backseat
im ****** about the cup it had my last brew and i want to drop a **
i owe them money i have none they brake ma kneecaps what fun
they throw me out the car, away i scurry
she got a big ***** so i call her big *****
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
Me doops and me was woking da street in a bomba reggae style
When to me suprise a goodaz said com and ste a wile
Me doops say nii but me says yes
cause how can i refuse *"no ***** dress"*
Inside her bungaloo i went for da **** but tasted poo
Oh no i say, dat dont taste good, a ****** now i really shuld
Too late she says you got the Klanga!
now i wish i didnt bangha
Me days are long and ful of strife
I lost me kids and me wife
me nips do hurt and so my wanga
Buts thats the life
of a Bomba Klanga
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC