"georgie" poems - Hello Poetry

I love da sound ya ***** does make While slapping up against your sister, for Christ sake Watching you all doing the ***** deed, doggy style On ya momma's brand new, multi coloured **** pile ***** young boys, are forever slapping, keepin’ it real While viewing ya ***** in ya year nine, high school classes Even some curious gals, like to slip in a quick feel While flashing their hallway entry, fancy gold passes Da sound ya ***** makes, ya must be using an amplifier With a **** load of flaming, boom-boom, bass Next time though, try turning the treble up, as you were And turning down that flaming bass, just in case This mornin’, I woke up stiff, like feelin’ as if dead Then flicked through the paper, my obituary, I just read Didn't feel that great, after we had finished the missionary Wish I was much more aware, like a future visionary I haven't even ironed my clothes or done my face For my very last day of this bright sunlight Will I need to pack a jumbo suitcase Or maybe just some shorts and thongs On my mystery vacation, one-way flight Da sound ya ***** was making when shaking Was maybe way too loud for some, last night It put me in, like a clothes dryer spin Police came by, just to check that no one was pranking With some spray with mace, just when I was about to sin Everyone's got an unusual craze in life Mine just happened to put me in a daze Should've taken a much deeper breath When going down between ya momma's thighs Send flowers to my ******* and hoes And never ever forget, ya ****** nice ways Always tried to satisfy the whole **** world But still hearing some sad **** woes I like da sound ya ***** makes Reminds me of some ole dance tracks Played by the DJ, named Georgie O’Kay While everyone dances to a beat I'm hard at work, while trying to get ya To get down lower and pretend to be ya momma.

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Sep 10, 2019

Sep 10, 2019 at 6:14 PM UTC

Fetchitnow

Da Sound Ya ***** Makes

I love da sound ya ***** does make While slapping up against your sister, for Christ sake Watching you all doing the ***** deed, doggy style On ya momma's brand new, multi coloured **** pile ***** young boys, are forever slapping, keepin’ it real While viewing ya ***** in ya year nine, high school classes Even some curious gals, like to slip in a quick feel While flashing their hallway entry, fancy gold passes Da sound ya ***** makes, ya must be using an amplifier With a **** load of flaming, boom-boom, bass Next time though, try turning the treble up, as you were And turning down that flaming bass, just in case This mornin’, I woke up stiff, like feelin’ as if dead Then flicked through the paper, my obituary, I just read Didn't feel that great, after we had finished the missionary Wish I was much more aware, like a future visionary I haven't even ironed my clothes or done my face For my very last day of this bright sunlight Will I need to pack a jumbo suitcase Or maybe just some shorts and thongs On my mystery vacation, one-way flight Da sound ya ***** was making when shaking Was maybe way too loud for some, last night It put me in, like a clothes dryer spin Police came by, just to check that no one was pranking With some spray with mace, just when I was about to sin Everyone's got an unusual craze in life Mine just happened to put me in a daze Should've taken a much deeper breath When going down between ya momma's thighs Send flowers to my ******* and hoes And never ever forget, ya ****** nice ways Always tried to satisfy the whole **** world But still hearing some sad **** woes I like da sound ya ***** makes Reminds me of some ole dance tracks Played by the DJ, named Georgie O’Kay While everyone dances to a beat I'm hard at work, while trying to get ya To get down lower and pretend to be ya momma.