"homeboy" poems
Joe of to the poky.
Joe off to the pen.
Joe of the ***** wagon again and again.
Joe fit shased and sailing, three sheets to the wind.
Joe swearing and cussing.
Joe in the back seat.
Joe sits on wrists. fingers all numb.
Joe tossin his cookies. Joe real no count ***
Joe know all the coppers
And breaks in the rookies.
"Hey rook" asks Joe " "can you loosen these up"
My hands been asleep since Henry was a pup.
Joe Bangles they call him and erbody knows.
That Joey cant get lit up and keep on his clothes.
Institutional homeboy.
Going back to the house.
Three hots and a cot.
and wild stories to tell.
slippers and tooth brush in an eight by ten cell.
Mr. Joe Bangles Dance.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC
Same **** different day
But today is New Year's Day
....Same **** different day
Hung over
New Year's Eve leftovers
Stuck on resolutions & do overs
Picking up the broken pieces & starting over
I headed to work with every intention to make it all better
Then I picked up "Friday's paper"
Said it once then said it twice
A part inside felt a little less safer
Homeboy died in Friday's paper
police Closed his eyes
but he finally feels a lot safer
Mommas screaming why in Friday's paper
Rather die than suffer & stay alive
Spend eternity w| her angel
Because in her eyes
There's no survival
Where's God when all you know is sinning
Baby's hungry so he prepared to break in
But that's not what they saying
Friday's paper headline **** break in"
He want the money & the drugs
So he break in
Food ain't enough & he breaking
How can he step forward in a world they already set locked gates in
In other words segregation
Buts it's decades later
Yea well you know segregation
White privilege
Under one nation
**** ain't nothing different
Just ask Friday's paper for confirmation
Poor white man w| mommy issues
finally had enough & shot up the whole school
Young black **** shot cs his black hoodie ain't seem too cool,
Ok Amber we coming to the rescue
Tyrone got kidnapped who?
I know y'all see this
or do y'all got a blind eye too
cs there's no reason why we have to fight to survive
while you ask daddy for a check or two
I'm living off a check or two
& you need 3 bathrooms to survive
why does the law apply to me
more than it does to you?
How do you look down on me
when I created you?
Lip injections,
hair extensions
ghetto expressions
that ain't you
but here comes Friday's paper right on cue
Zendayas dreads are unacceptable
twerking is ghetto too
While "keeping up" with the exact life you ridicule
then have the caucacity to put it in Friday's paper too
-G
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 11:46 AM UTC
cross-over
behind the back
simple wrist flip
34 footer drops
and I sit in awe --
having witnessed
Showtime
Magic, Kareem, Worthy
Vs.
The Parquet floor
and Larry Bird….,
the bad boys,
and the Jordan era
(both incarnations),
big Timmy in San Antonio,
and Hakeem in Houston,
Shaq and Kobe,
Kobe and Gasol,
the reign of a new king
shinning like the sun in Miami...
they all sit back
like me
mouth open
feeling a state of awe
muthafukkin Stephe Curry
……hope homeboy stays healthy,
I like bearing witness to NBA godliness –
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
Home boy thought he was a killer
Kept a necklace round his neck
In a villa near manila
A strange accurance
Small body found dead
Little ***** died underneath the currents
Homeboy was sure of his assurance
A good swimmer
His name was probably Laurence
He was just a few feet from shore,
When this Alligator about six feet or four,
His eyes went wide, bug eyed and crazy
This is when it all got a little hazy
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 11:26 AM UTC
The DOT: Where dreams go to die
And people go to wait in line
Sit in plastic chairs for hours
Next to mr. homeboy
And some chick that never showers
I'd like to finish this poem,
But they just called my number
Peace out, *******
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 8:59 AM UTC
They're gonna try to use my lyrics against me in trial
To prove I've been running for ah thousand miles
Many styles but the flow ********
Ten years gone ah prisoner of war
To live like that with the weight on my back
Ain't no ******* joke homie staying on track
Ese panick attacks to all my rivals
When the news hit the neck about my arrivals
It's called survival for the strong stay alive
You ain't gotta be like me I ain't trying to misguide
Just provide ah course eye view
Of what it's really like for ah chosen few
That's what I do I put your life in this
Ah street gang corrido is ah underground hit
From the face event you might hear the violence
But if you didn't keep you'll find peace in silence
Step in the booth I payed all my dues
If you check new tourist it's like two million views
The reviews say I infuse
That lowrider crews L.A County blues
Some win some lose
In their grave they snooze
While the DJ cut it up on the ones and twos
That's cool that's what the criminal say
So I'ma keep riding homeboy no delay
Big C Rock Mac 11 spray
Got the people in the zone ******* no bang
Put your hands up now put them down
Only the selected could cancel the crown
The rest of you clowns get faced down
Las puertas del Infierno ese that's my sound
Notorious Enemy that's how I get down
Ain't giving up nada catching no rebound
So album after album that I keep on dropping
Letting everybody know there ain't no stopping
This my coffin so bury me in it
Intellectual metaphor bout the music business
Mental fitness along with lyrical sickness
Loyal getting ready cross examine ah witness
Bout to fix this
Situation at hand
Cause my presence on ah stage ese high demand
Here I am
C Rocka the legend
Ink oozing out my pen is carving ah message
Say I'm destined to lead ah battalions
Sentenario change wing that's my home in Dalan
Not Italian but you get it kapish
I'ma sit up in the cut till it's time to release
My dominion's of angels and demons
To the scene where it's needed
Cause my people's is fiending
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
*** my brother, is so destructive, he treats even a jewel like its *******
he is soo stubborn, he gets under my skin like sunburn, but in the end he's still my brother.
i wouldnt have in any other, why? cuhz he down for the fam like southern? lol
i realized people you can never govern but even currently as he proceeds to walking on the second story on his FREAKEN KNEES! i realize i must make a compromise that there might be something about me he doesnt agree with,, so lets avoid the conflict cuhz it looks like a slippery cliff,,, *** is he doing upp there sounds like artillery ships and **** im about to throw this fit,, but my homeboy like na flames here smoke this spliff,, na NAGA my mind is a gift and you kn ow im trying to quit!,, witch brings me across the next subject,,, i suspect my inner demons which demoralize my drive to subside with most high take my closest friends minds for a joyride,,, undercover like a spy to poison my ambitions to stay sober im so bipolar, being high is mediocre but when mind is clear i tend to turn into that ogre,,,i feel as if all is hopeless,,, i live in the moment i live in the ocean,, i think my name is Joseph,, and i sleep on my best friend sofas,,, i dont know where this story is going, long as i continue typing i guess its my way of coping i guess its my way of invoking,,,,
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
I've a sinking friendship,
Torpedoed by the ********
And listing.
The first mate mutinied.
Once a blood brother,
Like no other;
An intimate
At an imminent end,
An alter-ego
More than a friend.
I've been too patient,
Veered off course
With understanding.
I'm quite sure
This Pythias
Would run and leave me
Hanging.
I'm on a cliff
And won't hang on
To a blade of trust,
A fawning pawn.
He had my back,
I turn,
He's gone.
This partisan
Must part
A homeless homeboy,
A dissembling fraud.
No longer a mainstay,
He's insecure,
His equivocations
Make lines blur,
I don't believe
Him anymore.
He really needs a soul-mate,
Classmate, playmate,
But he's become a reprobate,
Lying prostrate,
Lying up straight.
I'll drown my Boswell
In my inkwell;
No longer
An advocate.
The laughs have left,
Yes,
I'm bereft,
But I'll catch the wind.
My course is true.
This friendship
Can't be salvaged.
It's scuttled,
And I won't
Sink with you.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
Each afternoon in June,
I loiter-linger on the corner of 37th avenue,
Both eyes asleep,
A summer’s sunset smile on my face,
A flock of fairies in free float round my head.
My habit, a daily pause,
Plant my haunch against the blue barrel mail box,
Old empty drum, anachronism, stubborn antique.
I cringe at the mad jazz of shrieks and horns on cue,
The hatter’s rush at end of day,
There is purpose in this cacophony,
My city boasts and brags with noise,
Intoxicated on aroma,
A frequency with every smell.
Baptiste’s Pizza owns the breeze at 4 p.m.
Inhale this baker’s breath,
An oven-joy in one warm gust,
Blond baked crust,
Tomatoes boil and bubble cheese,
Salt fresh anchovies, red peppers,
A currency of meats.
I salivate and lick the wind,
Hunger is desire.
Sudden harmony in one sweet waft,
A pleasant jet stream,
A toker passes by,
And gifts me with a 60’s contact high.
A small girl’s mouthful voice,
A jam cram of donuts is my guess.
The rattle, clap and black lung cough,
An old school diesel delivery truck,
The air brakes squeal for release,
It’s quitting time and everything wants to be free
A homeboy, my local jive,
I know his dreams,
A lacquered finish,
In love with his axe,
You feel me... tap, bump and go.
Vinegar and toxic spice,
A window washer’s delight,
He squeals a squeaky clean
Fresh roses, oh a hopeful night, bonne chance,
The catastrophe of a cigarette,
The killer joy of a fresh cigar,
An uptown girl's stealth perfume,
She knows her prey,
He knows her ploy,
A mid west girl and a downtown boy
Daylight begs to dim,
The sun will witness just enough, no more,
My corner holds its own,
Each afternoon my part in scenes,
I dream,
And never wish, but often wonder,
About the life that might have been.
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 4:08 PM UTC
im happy for you
even if your not with me
thats pretty hard to say
and even harder to mean
since im still intoxicated
from your bodies potion
drank time and time again
while our bodies where in motion
the solution to my problems
my sunshine after the rain
i cant stand to see
this chump steal my shine
treating you like a queen
****** that was my dream
those were my hopes
now swirling down the drain.
you know this isnt right
that fool dont hold you
tight enough like me
not realizing your worth
a value more than a fortune
like that symbol that continues
im stuck in that groove
infinity ill spend
pacing tryin to figure when
I can put another bid in
to try to make it right.
when homeboy hacks it up
give me a chance
to show my change
to right my wrongs
and soothe the pain
caused by foolish games
immaturity made me play
I see the error in my actions
and I vow they wont happen
cause I don’t want a repeat
no more tears of sorrow
from hoes that cant compete
who I thought had you beat
until that day I sit
with a fake smile
and my tongue bit
cause im happy for you
since he is good to my boo
even though I hate the vision
of you huggin that buffoon
him kissing your lips
I almost ***** thinkin that ****
but I love you to death
the most definite end
so for the sake of us being friends
ill pretend to be happy for you
Oct 5, 2010
Oct 5, 2010 at 3:31 PM UTC
My mind resembles something like
a rabid VCR—baring its teeth,
foaming, unapologetic, at the mouth,
rewinding and replaying and repeating
all of the small cuts of two people
I swear I used to know and love.
Rerunning a patchwork reel of the scenes
I can stand to remember—
(which is all of them when I’m feeling
particularly masochistic).
Rhythmic static travels from
top to bottom of my mind’s eye—
a familiar flaw, cracking and popping
as the picture struggles to come clear.
I try to stop it—all of it.
Rip plug from outlet—
throw this snarling archaic beast
against some unsuspecting wall.
But it’s made in the good ol’ US of A
and runs on something
a bit more complicated than
any energy they can send me a bill for.
So I'm stuck
in this cyclical hell,
where there is no fresh air,
and the only oxygen I can get
has to be ****** through
a barely functioning dollar store crazy straw.
And, really, my only anger is directed at Dante
for not including this part
in his little ditty about the Inferno.
I swear I’d take
trying and failing
to escape a river of boiling blood
over whatever it is that causes me
to create a dramatic VCR metaphor
any day.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
Sweet sweet powder
Sweet sweet powder
Cutting keys wit flour
****** man of the hour
It’s the sweet sweet powder
Sweet sweet powder
Lookin down from the tower
Homeboy, I got all the power
It’s the sweet sweet powder
Like I’m raven from the bowery
I be hittin fools wit trash cans
Wake em up in bout an hour
With that sweet sweet powder
Shootin three ***** like crowder
Hollarin hella louder
Like Aretha in the shower
Got that sweet sweet powder
That I’m given to the *******
Never ****** with those snitches
That are wearing goodwill britches
No I roll with the
Sweet sweet powder
Been running through the ditches
Eating salty ham sandwiches
You act like I don’t know riches
I know that
Sweet sweet powder
Be cutting keys wit flour
I’m da man of the hour
Jumpin in the shower
With the sweet sweet powder
On the ivory tower
Pimpin tricks by the hour
Holding all the ****** power
Got that sweet sweet powder
Now wit that sweet sweet powder
I get ******* like a Scotty
****** Baio was hottie
But with that sweet sweet powder
He coulda ****** gotten Molly
Little Ringwald in her prime time
Slap that *** like a hate crime
Sweet sweet powder blowin my mind
I got that sweet sweet powder
Fuckim man of the hour
Rollin with robin trower
Acting like a lil bow-er
With my sweet sweet powder
Turning trick by the hour
Showering with power
Giving ******* flowers
Got that sweet sweet powder
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
standing high atop
the place where he cashed his checks
armed with 5 gallons
Arrowhead's extinguisher
a hero in a bottle
he foolishly fought
the flames of civil unrest
then the roof caved in
good intentions killed in vain
swallowed by the fire pit
days dressed in mourning
haunting the cemetery
tending her grave's grass
grieving guilty tears of loss
for the young daughter she had
she was too busy
caught up in "bargain's" frenzy
lost sight of her girl
her 12 year old was trampled
beneath the lust of looters
gasoline cans brought
to burn the local market
were beat back badly
chased away by baseball bats
a homeboy fire brigade
"This is our market!
The only one in the hood.
It ain't goin' down.
We saw the news on tv.
That **** ain't happenin' here."
tales of rioting
the worst and best in people
national headlines
the leviathan rises
through the smoke, fire, and ash
anger incited
latent hooliganism
an unjust verdict
for police brutality
can't we all just get along?
Jan 9, 2010
Jan 9, 2010 at 10:49 AM UTC
yo, dawg
I remember this one time
we was straight chillin
I fell out and was sleepin hard, dawg
my homeboys was actin the fool
smoking that tea
wildin out
like they was straight mad
party was of the hiz-ook
then this little blond ***** rolled in
takin bout whitey
o’ some ****
I was tore up, dawg
sleepin in a muthafukkin teapot
this ** flappin her gums
bout this and that
like we give two *****
homeboy, we was jess lookin to rip it up
out of the blue this trick
says ‘cat’
dawg, I jumped up
running across the table
moving furniture
up in this here muthafukka
my homeboys lit out after me
hollerin like big dawgs
one a’ those fools
we like to call the Hatter
went to rubbin a bit o’ jam on my nose
a little on the gums
you how we do
anaway
that **** did the trick
and I fell out
hard like a muthafukka
passed. the **** out.
hit the bricks and skid my chin
you feel me?
bout that time this little trip rolls in
talking about being late n’ ****
that Hatter straight destroyed his rolex
send homeboy to cryin like *****
dawg, that **** was the craziest party
we still talk about the madass ****
…..never knew what happened to the blond
chick was a trip ---
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 11:44 AM UTC
Life is school, this is silly.
I was always excited for recess,
Born to be Wild like homeboy Free *****
Dustin checked in to eventually check out.
He knew there was so much more that our existence was about.
Went into the wild under the guidance of Rafiki
Nemo found himself at Free Thought Academy
Lion King was seen weeping only tears of joy
At first roar of his cub, darling baby boy
He knew to nourish this being's mind, body, and soul. So he gained deep wisdom in the art of breath control. After this recognition, he taught his practice for free. Nowadays everything is fluid and the kingdom thrives with ease.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC
here is another one
mostly for fun
like a little cap gun, son
I
Hop on one foot
Like a muthafukkin bunny
I’m lucky, its sunny
But allergies got my nose all runny
The drum beat
Keeps my feet sweet
Light and neat
Homemade Halloween treat
Back to the street
See I’m rollin
In nothing stolen
Knee swollen
**** takes it’s toll , man
But I still jam
Like I am on a muthafukkin roll
I stroll
Into any place of business
Like I witnessed
Jehovah’s ******
Simply put, I’m the best
****** rapper in the
Pacific northwest
But that’s just a guess
I don’t get out a bunch –
Well I
Seem to play this game
Where I try to pick the brains
Of these criminally insane
Muthafukkas on my job plane
Don’t drink Champaign
But if I do its out a mason jar
Check out my appendix scar
I lied, still got mine
It’s like a shinning star
Brown dwarf, cant see it from afar
But it will destroy the par
Leave golfers in their little cart
At the speedie mart
Riding on the BART
Did you just ****
I get silly still
Its these badass pills
Cause all kinds of thrills
Homeboy, can we just chill? –
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
I'm sitting here rocking the cell block, getting a new tattoo. Ever since I left the streets there isn't much else to do. I was banging with my crew when the lead started to fly. I was making a few bucks just trying to get by. One of the boys had a beef and we had to put some work in. One 9mm and three shots later and I'm hitting the Penn. . Watched my homeboy laid down in the street, nobody saw nothing or that's what the police say. Now I got to do 20 hard, I hate that it has to be this way. I left a few good homies still running in the streets, they still trying to be living large and I am property of the state. Looking at the new crew that just came in, I haven't seen my family in God only knows when. So here I sit in a cell, trying to remember what it was all for. I am dying to get a touch, but no love is coming through that door. The ones I thought were my friends, have just walked away. After I took the wrap, they don't have anything to say. Even if I wanted to tell, I don't think I could. I still have family living in the same old hood. So I guess this is how for the moment it has to be. I'm sitting here soldering up with no love from the homies.
Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
you think I don’t live
hip hop
in my drop top
boy, I’ll slap a cop
for messin wit my
organic crop
I got’s hogs to slop
fruit is starting to drop
rabbits ears are lopped
still, I got time to rock
see I
write rhymes all the time
mostly in my mind
helps me to unwind
when I smoke the kind
like a real balla
dog don’t need a
shock colla
he listens when I holla
I like to gives the bums a dolla
that **** makes me feel bangin
while my ball sack swangin
Am I entertaining? –
Cause I‘ll never be mainstream
never learned to silk screen
5th wheel, Slipstream
Pajamas on, a wet dream
I’ll never be mainstream –
See I
don’t own a gun
shoot my mouth off
just for fun
never eat a wheat bun
not a celiac,
just don’t want none
***** come undone
solar flare
from the sun
life weighin like a ton
smashed flat on the ground, son
but I
get back up ya’ll
no time to fall
harvest in the Fall
watch the water-fall
like the politicians ya’ll –
I will never be mainstream
wont listen to yo kids scream
buy those ******* ice cream
all up in the sun beam
I’m never bein mainstream –
Ya’ll, I cant wait to own
acreage and a home
space for my dogs to roam
hide those muthafukka’s bones
or maybe I will buy a cow
work with a horse and plow
homeboy’s, the time is now
gotta get a loan somehow
so I pay off all my back debt
save some cash for
a down pay-ment
so I don’t got’s to pay no rent
life will be so different --
and I will never be mainstream
create power with my own stream
use my cow to get milk and cream
this **** isn’t just a dream
boy, I will never be mainstream --
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 2:47 PM UTC
call me MCDJpjs
one you can look too these days
keep ya kids out the muthafukkin freeways
see a roof and I give that ***** a raise
see I’m not
a traditional rapper
ima ex-trapper
spend too much time on the crapper
wannbe flapper
but not with birds wings
I wanna go dancing
in a 20’s gin ring
drunk with a tommy gun
come and get ya some
I might come undone
I’m just havin fun
see I like to smoke ****
grow it out with no seeds
give it away freely
destroy the system completely
**** capitalism its
causing a schism and
how you livin cause
I was born for given
natural social-ist
creating my own religion
******* wanna front like pigeons
actin like they grantin wishes
still sharing, but not an Osborn
I’m the new norm
At least in Ore-gon
Call me MCDJpjs
call me MCDJpjs
one you can look too these days
keep ya kids out the muthafukkin freeways
see a roof and I give that ***** a raise
Homeboy I tell the truth
to today’s youth
like a real sooth
let me show you proof
see I don’t pull punches
about GMO lunches
and throwin punches
putting fools in the crunches
slammin cell doors at my 9 to 5
watchin young lives
be hypnotized
by the flawed system
one that lets them
keep coming back to prison
instead of giving them a vision
of success and grace
as part of the race
that we all belong
ya’ll sing my song!
Call me MCDJpjs
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
Droppin rows
Lil sweet hoes
Starting to show
Ah, new growth
Bout another month
Tie those ******* up
Scroggin arms to buff
Makin knuckles rough
Outdoor grower
Both a grower and a shower
Homeboy didn’t you know,
I grow outdo
Organic food, sprinkling
Had an idea, inklin
Gonna try feedin in the evenings
Prevent these girls from shrivelin
See I
Take care and pride
Don’t let em get fried
Use hemp string to tie
Dog, that aint no lie
Cause I grow out door
Still liven white boy poor
But I grow like a muthafuckin roar
Build slow
Leave ya wantin more
I’m an outdoor grower
Don’t really **** wit food crops
Don’t really make friends with mad cops
Don’t really like to eat pork chops
But I will make you top drop with my
Super green
Grown squeaky clean
Nothing obscene
Goes in-between
These rows
No hoes
Use my hands
Part of the land
Scan the horizon
Make a new plan to
Expand this outdoor grower
I’m an out door grower
Never use a mower
Or snow blower
I’m a outdo grower
Got this **** wrapped up like a boa
And you know
Out door grow
Doin 20 different strains
Some seed, some clone brains
My soil built to drain
Up on the Willamette Valley plain
See I hear all this ****
About Mendocino
And northern cali
But the mid willamettre valley
Grows better than anything in cali
And I back that **** up
Dab nail on leaning on a coffee cup
Bruthas tryin to just stand up
After rollin and smoking one of these blunts
But I
Try to stay humble
Donate my wears to the needy
I aint greedy
Its about growin the best **** me
I do that all day er-ry day
To late Spetember from early May
While farmers out gatherin hay
I be growin the best **** in the USA
I’m a outdo grower
Half-assed rhyme flow-er
Getting ******* to bend lower
So all those buds get equal sun –
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 10:57 AM UTC
It doesnt make you a man when you raise your hand and say look baby im bout to make you understand because she opened her mouth and used her voice and yall didnt agree or make the same choice doesnt make you a man when you go out cheat honestly homeboy you just accepted defeat you tell her your sorry there wont be a repeat she falls for your lies and all your deciet baby open your eyes and begin to see that hes not a man he truely is weak he'll try to cover it up by being all sweet he'll do things he never does like rubbing your feet and youll fall right back in when you need to retreat kuz no women alive deserves to be beat
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 10:10 AM UTC
A warmed up tube and a sweaty board
Slippery steel sloppily chattering
underneath my finger tips
The space is dank and hot and my ears are ringing
We've been over this a hundred times
What's one more
Or four more
Homeboy forgot his lines
A cigarette hangs from my lips
and the sweat constantly drips
My shirt is soaked
Brain probably fried from all the **** I smoked
But none of that matters
There's three new songs to get down
We gotta tighten that **** up
Get it all packaged neat for the rowdy crowd
I wonder if I was the only one in the room worried
Probably
All that went away as soon as we broke in
Properly
The song
The set
Free *****
Gallons of sweat
Memories that I could never forget....
Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC
Just beats on amazon prime groove train taking my mind
Unwinding inside the ride I applied tide and sideways glanced at a passing fancy
Take a chance on me and see the reality of freedom in an American slum war vet bums with their hair in buns growing hipster beards for fun better run to the PX and demand *** from reckless transgendered
Next step Freddy Fender Tejano rockers walls crashers in bobby socks fighting ***** behind the block building wielding cash money slinging organic honey skinning bunnies on a sunny Tuesday
The blues swaying my body as I rocksteady the cracked Levey with a disheveled teddy bear in tow
Can’t touch this flow like the raging river goes and a runny nose when the allergy shows if you didn’t already know MCDJpjs can still touch his toes
Homeboy I am limber yoga instructor over for dinner Charlie sheen style winner and I grin with a thousand watt smile
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 3:44 PM UTC