"loonies" poems
The Rent-a-Mob loonies, the gangsters and the Racists
damaged scums of society and contemporary politics
Ignorant arrogant sociopaths who want it all for nothing
Indulgent wasters in nation awashed with opportunities
In idle union they scream, feed us poor and **** the Rich
Strangers come Poland, Bulgaria, India and all over
to work in farms, hospitals, hotels and Constructions
Building futures and faring in endeavours with sweat
Crimson gangs and Renta Mobs states we serve nobody
**** the wealth makers, **** the parasites and let's drink
Our shyster gangs of Revo-comrades and malcontents
See killing fields, whereas strangers toil and find rich pickings
Our Revos Distract, confuse, sow seeds of dissent, make strife
Blame all others, lie and decieve, fling indulgent political turds
Rent brainwashed Mobs,into ***** bridgard to do their ***** work
We all know life is unfair and even roses have imperfections
Some are born to riches in spades and some born to beggars in dusts
Those with time, sit and ask God why, just a fact of life to accept
But from dust has risen billionaires, whilst riches have made duds
Insane Crimson sits in spurious guise and odious fallacy playing God
Yeh, **** the Rich and feed the poor, why hide and use Rent a mob
Why not air your case in broad daylight and stand your conviction
The coward you are knows it hold no sanity for those with sense
Except for thieves, the workshy and wasters who cheat to survive
In your city of merits aplenty, Revo-crimson is beneath contempt
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
scratched walls,
horrifying screams,
of dreams,
electric chair stupor,
in the boudoir,
breathing lunar air,
it’s a psychotic affair.
dilated pupil,
the brain was being a cupel,
men in white coats,
injecting drugs,
in bodies like slugs.
soaked bodies in bath tub,
gazing on the ceiling reading what’s written up.
loonies conspiring against the medic,
through the power of psychedelic.
eyeing each doctor from the corner of their eye,
sitting on their chairs high.
burning with desire,
cold as a wire.
the breakout began at noon,
headed by a loon.
followed by a goon,
in the end of june.
the loons,
wanted to escape to the desert dunes,
running away from the chemical fumes,
dodging exhume.
electrocuted,
injected,
infected,
discarded and rejected.
the loons had taken over,
the goons had won.
they were stun.
terrible turn of events,
it was all in their mind tents,
still sulking on the beds and their wheel chairs,
dreaming of the answers of their prayers.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC
Maybe your mothers and fathers do not know right from wrong
Maybe those that birth you cannot tell real from unreal
The apples do not fall far from the trees that we know all along
So no surprise when off-springs and all fall into the reel
Unable to decipher the lost and damaged from their midst adorn
My mother washed me in truth, honesty, sincerity and real love
That's the only path that graces the soul and makes humanity
So all my life I know what's real, true, honest from all else above
You walk your path and serve your gods in all their profanity
Your festered minds and putrid brains is not like mine thereof
In superficial abodes, your falseness lies fakery has confused you
No truth or honesty exists all around only deceits and raw fear
You rot from the inside and feed from poison not breastmilk too
from start you're ****** your brains from chemicals they rear
Spooks with semblance no substance, serving satan them born fools
I know what's real what's true what's honest and sincere or not
That is me from real bosoms raised in edifying values not falsity
Come in thousands you stink from a mile off satan demons squat
Sincerity truthfulness if erred makes amends not sit discordantly
Real Humanity embraces love and peace not mortal duels that's fact
From negativity you drink in darkness lies your bread and joy
miseries and fears you seek to share cause your souls lies in pain
In cancerous fears you scheme and plot your ****** evils ploys
Cause it destroys you to see goodness whilst your souls' in chain
Weak corrupted dark and damaged subjugated to lucifers noise
Gnarled old wrinkled before your years you envy my young looks
Borne of inner joy and unafraid pious calm pathetics spit zombie
Too sick to know a clear conscience never pines or fears like crooks
Pure and noble emotions caters no dirt or negativities like loonies
Dignity and integrity offers granite to malevolent duds and hooks
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 10:16 AM UTC
My happiness comes from me ask my friends and the world around me blossoming in a spark of crimsony red moon glow on forethought walks through the shivering lenses of percept that trickle down our backs as we enlighten ourselves with all that is in between and unseen.
It is as if our aged limbs were caressed into a symphony of leverages and their shapes. We cannot be cadavers. We are arms of cheer and picture jasper, adolescent googled-eyes gathers with virile fixations on our partners as we prey on the map lines subtly employing our eyes as we dart across each dimple, pimple, freckle, and gently worn rash lines.
These are the dogs of our incessant barking. Idling for sincerity, as actors swiftly press Winter into us while our limbless diction presents our inadequacy Rd upon our ugly and I'll-tempered neighborly-things. Aliens of the afternoon, first floor agony and karmas standard for living in a reduced climate One.
Wearing down the hooves, undulates from Pepperdine mark trails with breaking breads and twigs and bones. Undulates from another world, behoofed and bemoved, curdling their sappy reselling a of drat and unkindly remarks. And we have begun to wonder when evolution will kick-in. When will the military come for them at the doors and vacate is all from our nontoxic lie-shrouded apartment complexes, condos, and cabins. Slaughter numbers of letters and integers right out in the street; loonies in the town square and the moose are crying.
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
Now
I posted a poem or two
which grabbed the eyes
of a dozen or so
like glue;
but now I’d like someone to tell me
what I should do
1
I mean,
I got a few followers, right…
*“Latenight ****** started following you”*
said the notice from the website;
and: “ Moonface at Window started following you”
but I got no comments from the followers
so I have no idea what sort of people they are -
and now, hey, I’m so afraid of all these followers
(these Moonies and Loonies)
I constantly look back over my shoulders
to see if they are following me
And everywhere I go
every other person looks so sus
and when I’m out
(wont to water more often, as it happens at my age)
I visit public toilets (McDonald’s is often cleanest)
and I get this feeling
(deep down in me)
my followers are hiding
in the ceiling
watching me
dadadidado –
But please, O don’t look down on me!
And the rest of you decent people -
will you please tell me what to dadadidado?
2
And look,
I got all these likes -
which is good, right?
“Pimply Whanker liked this”
***** TouchBottom liked this”*
is all it says
And don’t you hate it
when they don’t leave a comment? –
And now, I’ll never know
what it is they liked…
Can someone fix me right -
what should I dadadidado??
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 8:31 AM UTC
.
“The lunatic is on the grass”
Signs don’t really matter
Spelling corrects the mood
Dancing on the scattered blades
My word, he’s such a crazy dude
“The lunatic is on the grass”
Park place settings filter
In silverware and dreams
Sidewalks offer no relief
That’s when the pain excites the screams
“Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs”
Memories grow within the weeds
Flowers cast in sad defeat
Caretakers watch as footprints carve
Barking out orders, then repeat
“Got to keep the loonies on the path”
Herding shadows singular
Days to nights of gloom
Read the writing on the wall
This is the dark side of the moon
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 10:00 PM UTC
The lunatic is on the grass
The lunatic is on the grass
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs
Got to keep the loonies on the path
The lunatic is in the hall
The lunatics are in my hall
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more
And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forbodings too
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon
The lunatic is in my head
The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade, you make the change
You re-arrange me 'till I'm sane
You lock the door
And throw away the key
There's someone in my head but it's not me.
And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon...
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 7:02 AM UTC
I chew my way through nickles I earn from angry tourists ambivalently tossing percentages into a jar. I've learned that some of the toughest people come from the proletariat. I fear the people that have worked at McDonalds for 20 years. I kneel before the Knights of Mediocrity.
I check my mail and I come back with a fist full of loonies and quarters. Payday. My great big nose reflects back in the copper before I put the coins into my mouth-recepticle. It is barely bearable. It tastes like blood, but is it from the metal or is it the coin cutting my gums? With the sheer yield of my fields was I able to get it down. I wash it down with some OJ.
Of the queerest men and women I have met, most of them were from the same world as I came from (and to which I will inevitably return). The world of the workforce. I am merely ailed by itchy feet and a severe fear of placidity. I work hard. But only if my work is paid in mileage. If every penny spent is a road to anywhere but here.
A former colleague of mine developed prominent ****** ticks from working as a cashier at a market. The world falls harder on the content, because their yields shield most of the fall. People die both in front of desks and between steel beams.
Two men sit in silence, playing chess. Suddenly, an argument arises and both parties toss theories of chivalry between one another before one of the men yell,
"I don't think it's quite that black and white!"
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
Seven thousand mile away
I studied Shakespeare by candlelight
due to long and constant power cut
yet I still made A1 grade in English Literature
My friends grew up in Shakespeare country
they have electricity twenty-four sevenRed
all they can write is diss poetry
and act as useful idiots for thieves and loonies
they tell me I am suffering
and cancelled
I say
“You starvelling, you eel-skin, you dried neat’s-tongue,
you bull’s-pizzle, you stock-fish
O for breath to utter what is like thee!-you tailor’s-yard,
you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck!”
“Your brain is as dry as the remainder biscuit after voyage.”
“Villain, I have done thy mother”
“Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell”
So we know why anarchists are dripping with envy and jealousy
about the man who read Shakespeare by candlelight
and yet bettered them all
so I say again
“You scullion! You rampallian! You fustilarian! I’ll tickle your catastrophe!”
Dec 1, 2021
Dec 1, 2021 at 9:21 AM UTC
for ringing
division bells
hearing them ring too
soon, threatened by shadows
of random precision cast
by the
Dark sides of the Moon,
comfortably numb
Time maddeningly
clocking ,
the loonies in the hall,
hey you, out there getting
old fading smiles
easing all your pain
show me where it hurts
my hands two balloons
now i have the fever again
so, I think can you tell
tell if I can feel
smiles from what I might trade
cold comfort for change
a lost soul
a look in the eye
caught in the stutter of a cold breeze
blowing shining
on misty reaching for a secret
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 2:42 AM UTC
Withering willows wave in the night.
Neko nearly snarled at my sight.
Sneaky sister sitting on the floor.
Fearsome fellow fiends rap on the door.
Midnight moon marvels at this lay.
Leering lovely loonies come to play.
Parting parties parade o'er the hill.
Happy Halloween heap-up your fill.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 12:19 AM UTC
Projection Display.
I Hate myself... And therefore you too
Because I don't have time to hate myself
So you'll do just fine.
But I'm tryin, Ya know?
tryin to make change,
But ain't nobody got nothin but twenties
And all I have is Canadian
a pocket full of loonies
with nobody to blame but myself
If there is actually anyone to blame.
Lashing out Confused
Yet fully aware of my folly.
So, yeah... Sorry bout' that.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
*Celebrity car crash,
Diana's obliterated,
so sad so sad, and the world goes round
Twenty-one years later, and it's no accident
The Ryder had killed them poor *******
But we'll get the ********** we'll get the **********
The sidewalk ain't safe, the playground ain't safe, the schools ain't safe, but hey, my home is safe for now
I'll eat spaghetti out of a can if I have to,
I'll **** in the bucket if I have to,
Just to keep my poor *** safe from the loonies
Marked safe, I'm listening to static all of the time
Living under the rock is cool and calm
Until the jackhammer penetrates my skull
You're safe, you're not safe,
and the world goes round*
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 6:36 PM UTC
Thieving and burglary - deliberate
indulgent, ignorance, waste of opportunities - deliberate
drinking, loose morals, bad company, drugging - deliberate
lazy, stupidity, state dependency in viable health - deliberate
babies for welfare payments, employment avoiding - deliberate
hate, envy, jealousy, lies, slander, crimes, drunkenness - inadequacies
Racism, ignorance, small mindedness, pettiness, belligerence - Low scale inherent characteristics
Betrayal - engineered
Loss of employment and brilliant career ruination - engineered
alone and social isolation - engineered
lack of intimate relationship - engineered
Rudeness, screams, fractured relationship - engineered
economic stagnation - engineered
Physical limitations - engineered
In the woke civilisation of the great Island
Psychopaths Social and structural Engineers march in Red
In raving anodyne tones the entitled ivories do the twist
Please ignore all the listed deliberate glaring omissions above
No! you see in deluded grandeur
Its time for the blame game, its time for the blame game
Its all the fault of the immigrant
who studied and worked to make a better life
especially that black successful one
with everything just going well for him
we didn't boat him on on the Windrush
He's not cleaning our roads or in the factory
He's not fetching and wiping **** in the Hospital
He's not even into crime and supplying our drugs
No! No! No!
He is a leech and a parasite
He is responsible for our miserable uninspiring life
Comrades, join us, the Revolution is now
They say I suffer, I have pain
How can I, I wonder
when its all your engineered and dramatized work
of which I am not in the least responsible!
And you know it!
Narcissists, Psychopaths, Depressives, Mentally challenged loonies
We give you your Revolution, please enjoy the spoils!!!
Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 7:23 AM UTC
Heaven ain’t better than hell
It’s all just wings harps and bells
Heaven aint better than hell
And heaven ain’t helping me none
I don’t need a harp I just need a gun
And heaven aint helpin me none
The good all die alone
Sent where God’s light is shone
But their family ain’t there
For goodness, they could not bear
So they sinned and oh well
I guess heaven ain’t better than hell
All of your friends are going to hell
Why dont you try to meet them there?
All of those friends in hell
The meeting place of freaks, geeks, and loonies
The tavern of those that used to be lonely
They have their friends and good company too
When you’re in hell there is much more to do
Heaven ain’t better than hell
Heaven ain’t better than hell
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
A bunch of people
****** up people
Like, the in-the-head
Kind of ****** up
Anyway, they're just standing there
Looking at each other
And at the ground
Left, right, up and down
Then the music starts
And starts to blare
Louder and louder
"It's a sin."
The crowd begins to sway
Not gradually though
They just slam into life
Arms swinging and legs kicking
The zombies have become animate
The loonies suddenly decide, simultaneously, to let their individual freak flags fly
And you're in the middle of it
Physically stunted and slowed but mentally... all there
You lift your right leg
Place it in front of your left
The loonies/freaks/zombies continue their ritualistic, devilish, mindless movements
And there you are, too slow to even make it out of that jungle, brimming with madness
Finally, after 10 minutes or so
You make it to a chair, located on the edge of the makeshift dancefloor
You sit down, the metal like a brutal breeze to your warm behind
You sit down, and you look up at the ceiling
The music still flairs and the singer wails the same words
"It's a sin"
A lonely tear rolls down your cheek
And you know it's true
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 2:52 PM UTC
Snow dust the sidewalks
People laugh as they walk
Towards the unknown
their warm breaths
fogging the air
Their hands
wrapped around a steaming cup
They are content.
He shivers.
Pulling the thin
scraps of cloth
closer to him.
Waiting for the sound.
That heavenly sound.
Across from him,
she sits,
still
moment before
her last breaths having
gone unnoticed by the crowd
except by him.
Not wanting to suffer
that same fate raises his voice
"Please spare some change?"
The endless lines
Repeated at each passerby
Some drop him a few dimes,
quarters occasionally,
loonies and toonies are scarce
But it's enough
by enough it means
Enough to buy some food
to last the day.
but it's not enough,
by not enough it means
it will not help him survive
the cold
harsh
days to come
Dec 15
HUGE snowstorm tears tree out of the ground!!
The headlines exclaim boldly,
The people read the news
As they pass yet another still body
on this winter morning.
"He's only sleeping"
They think as they pass,
It wasn't the first still body
the crowd had passed this morning
it wasn't the first body
covered in thin scraps of cloth
Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 7:31 PM UTC
Guess I gotta find out who I want to be
But you know it’s a lie when they say you’ll know what to do
At the age of twenty three
In the next twenty years I’ll just be another John to the corporate ******
Hell, I’m already am, but just still half-awake
Dependant on the food and drugs, and the Ministry’s shortcake
Find out who I gotta be before I’m dragged down the Gov't pie-hole
Guess who I am right now, just a sad and confused *******
Bounded by all of whom guide me
Guess who I am guess who I am
Bounded by all of whom guide me
Guess who I am guess who I am
Bounded by love and its bounty
Guess whom they are
Today’s the day, today’s the day, I call in sick
Give myself a warm bath and play with my ****
It’s called “stimulating”, to those who don’t know or don’t feel
Give myself another twenty years, and I’ll have nothing to play with
But bare with me, there’s still time, there’s still a chance; some kind of retribution
I grab my Phillips, and shave her down to the woods, an open landscape
I’m an open book now, and I’m singing to myself as I go against the grain,
I punch in the info, stroke my finger down the list, ask who's to blame
Eureka
Bounded by all of whom guide me
Guess who I am guess who I am
Bounded by all of whom guide me
Guess who I am guess who I am
Bounded by love and its bounty
Guess whom they are
Today’s the day, and so I grab my pliers and duct tape
My hunting knife, my hunting bow, my hunting clothes
Dressed for the **** but smiling like the loonies who broke into the Whitehouse
Today’s the day, a redemption song, I found me a ****** to lynch
And I found me a ****** to shoot, as I say goodbye cruel world
Hallelujah, God bless my sick little show
Caught me a tiger by the toe
And if he hollers, I’ll let him croak
Onto the next one, I’ll make him choke
This is who I am
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 7:25 PM UTC
-
on the Sea of Tranquility sits
evidence of alien visitors
to this world ;
underneath one of the footings lie
the crushed remains of an indigenous
being who was delivering a message
inside a six-fingered metacarpus
entanglement is a wrinkled sheet
of aluminum with the following
etched in broken Earthling—
_"we never sent invitations
and we never asked you
for anything–
Please,
go home..."_
s jones
2021
.
Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 7:59 PM UTC
The sunshine blazes through the window panes
This brilliant mind
Shall show how it is brilliantly insane.
To be normal can be a kick
However, being crazy is quite colorful
When one has a group to share the mental offtrack with.
A bunch of loonies to make the day beautiful.
Lose your mind.
Let yourself go.
Have some fun.
Dance, crazily, in the snows.
Waltz in the rains
Turn up the music...
Now, it is my time to let myself go..
My mind loosens up
Fun and cheers to the Fun and The Insane.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 10:16 AM UTC
“Socialism is a philosophy of failure,
the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy,
its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery.”
“I do not at all wonder that British youth is in revolt
against the morbid doctrine that nothing matters
but the equal sharing of miseries,
that what used to be called the ‘submerged tenth’
can only be rescued by bringing the other nine-tenths
down to their level…”
Socialism isn’t equality. Why should we be equal anyway? Who thought that up -well St-Juste and Robespierre, who created a tyranny based on terror that furnished the blueprint for communism. You have the ruling elite who control everything and the general public under their thumb so the elite can stay in power. Venezuela is a beautiful example of where socialism leads. Leftists are always hung up on theories and fantasies but never want to look at cold, hard reality.
” You cannot legislate the poor into prosperity by legislating the wealthy out of prosperity. You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it”
“If a man is 20 and not a Socialist, he has no heart. If a man is 40 and not a Capitalist, he has no head.”
We do not want gangster POLITICS
or
Gangster Politicians
Use your head to vote
let our dear Reds seize the minds of the youths
and make them failures, bullies and street thugs and hooligans
Red Loonies always want us all to suffer together
THEY CALL IT SOLIDARITY, THEY CALL IT PEOPLE'S POWER
May 5, 2021
May 5, 2021 at 7:09 PM UTC
one of these days
if all the loonies
and scientists
are actually right
And,
the world does
end,
then, for completely
unaltruistic, and
Selfish reasons
i want you
there
with Me.
for example
if say the zombies
DO come after
us,
then on the day
that i finally
**** up,
and,
get caught
Well,
on that day,
i know you'll
shoot me.
or if
the aliens come,
and,
team up with the
artificially intelligent
machines that,
we just had
to make
and the Earth becomes
xylot 3
and, our new xylotian
overlords just turn
out to be
not such nice
guys
then,
i'm pretty sure
you'll help lead
the resistance,
and frankly, if you
win, Well
i'd rather be
on your side.
and, the climate
may
very well
**** us all
i still think, though
that freezing
to death
would be better than the
opposite.
at least,
then i could persuade
You into freezing close
to me.
i guess what
i'm trying to
say is
that,
at the end of
it all
you know,
everything.
then you're
not such a
bad person to
have known.
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 10:40 PM UTC
Painting lies on the doorstep of the countries elite
Old men hiding, while the hood destroy for fascist belief
Draw a thin blue line along the precincts orderly beat
Our enemy become enraged, then suburbia can’t sleep
Mention of war, makes Colonel Sanders feel so good, right!
It helps the makers of guns, especially all the men that knelt
Once the losers hand back their bibles, tools and money belt
We will become the same as the southern island overnight
Who are you going to vote for
It don’t really matter no more
The new world order will figure it out
And program the machine to adjust the count
Then one world government of socialist, no doubt
Only chance is to open up a bible and lets meet on the mount
So be very careful what you think you are truly wishing for
Once you enter, there’s no way out, it’s a one way door
Not long after, you’ll see it’s not at all, our promised freedom
All the grasslands and concrete jungles, renamed Yankeedom
Line up for food, water, healthcare, is this US or far left China
Now we’re not allowed to pray at night, come back Messiah
Who are you going to vote for
It don’t really matter no more
The new world order will figure it out
And program the machine to adjust the count
Then one world government of socialist, no doubt
Only chance is to open up a bible and lets meet on the mount
Be wise who you vote for and watch for the dead they count
If the system is rigged, the powers will have a case to mount
Bring back the old way days, one on one honest debates
Stop the press or there will be another war between the states
Black, white, yellow or brown, we all live in this freedom town
Don’t let the thugs, loonies, murderers or media, get us down
We are a Democratic nation, with freedom of choice
So take off your mask, stay in line and show your real voice
Who are you going to vote for
It don’t really matter no more
The new world order will figure it out
And program the machine to adjust the count
Then one world government of socialist, no doubt
Only chance is to open up a bible and lets meet on the mount
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 11:54 PM UTC
____
| • • |
____
•
The One
There is an EYE that sees
( it is only your own )
--- --- ---
(A mind that knows)
••
There is a TRUTH being told
But our bodies do not
Merge into the parts they are destined to play
•
We are acting out a NEW STORY!
We are in the play called
DEATH BY ALIEN INVASION
THE INVASION OF THE DEMENTED UPON THE PURE OF HEART
• •
We play the part of a world of
Frightened and defeated people looking only
For
A FIX
•
We play the part of forlorn and loveless lonely loonies
Looking only to get laid
For reasons all our own
••
We don't know why we do this
Only that we MUST
••
We run from talk of THE ONE EYE THAT SEES
of THE ONE MIND THAT KNOWS
We cannot believe!
That our lives have been stolen from us
&
are not our own
We are programmed entities (robots)
Wanting only to feel safe
••
Looking for OUR huggy buggy teddy bear good ******* machine
••
(Love !!!)
•
You can escape
•
First you gotta wake up if you can
•
You gotta really want to that's the thing
•
There will be real feelings
This might be frightening
•
But at least you will be human if only for a while
•
For they really don't want you to escape
•
You'll need a lotta courage just to try
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
I’ve been in the bank rolling in the loonies jack.
I’ve been in the bank, sipping cognac.
I’ve been in the bank, telling all the haters that they wack.
I swear imma give my granny a heart attack.
Sniffing so much crack I don’t remember where I’m at.
But as long my heart in tact.
Imma finna keep making them racks.
Holding up the bank, in a ski mask.
But imma never be in a slump dog.
Going from girl to girl like I’m playing leap frog.
I’m a beast yawl.
Not just in sheets dog.
It’s all good, because after all, everyone wants a taste of success dog.
Just relax and take a puff of fog.
I swear my spirit animal is a pug.
Because we both like to chew up the rug.
And you bet imma keep blowing up them streams like I’m dig dug.
Laughing to the bank, making mills bruh.
My girl looking hella fine with them stills on.
Don’t speak no English because I bought her off of amazon.
She from the amazon.
Looking amazon.
Sitting on my lap like I’m Santa uh!
You know that’s what sup!
Going to bank together rolling in them loonies jack
Going to the bank, sipping cognac.
Telling all the haters that they wack!
While We Avoid stepping on the sidewalk cracks.
As that would break our mommas back. And I don’t want that, which is why I only sniff the crack.
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 4:57 PM UTC