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"pimped" poems
A **** ***** and a ***** who we all pay to **** Draped in the green garments of Envy being pimped out by Greed impregnated with the seed of Hatred giving birth to Anger in the house of Gluttony in the bed of Sloth. Written by Keith Edward Baucum
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Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 10:57 AM UTC
Lust 2
Man and men everywhere; Silver-fox, gay, several-times re-married & divorced. But not one without baggage to be seen — Pimped up with **** Waged weary by work or Isolated through layered losses, The modern man: a peculiar specimen. It seduces the obvious why we turn to women to fill the void; Upside-down desires? Or love that truly inspires?
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Jan 16, 2024
Jan 16, 2024 at 7:28 PM UTC
Men everywhere...
the plants I use for trauma are **** and aya but the feds who are not aware of God who values Equity think their 'views' are superior to the Torah the Tanakh, The Old Testament and the Good Book. God gave us all the herbs and all the plants he created the seed he created the sun he created water He is the God of the Hapless, the Widow, the Orphan He is the God of Equity who do the Feds/ Cops/ Gov think they are ?? to interfere with Gods laws? I tried to get **** to get rid of my trauma the ops that ***** me made sure my **** was laced with Fetanal No thanks it does not stabalise my moods to spray a Sacred Healing Plant with noxious addictive and dangerous chemicals It is infuriating being ripped off again, and again, and again, and again, again and again. God never gave noxious chemicals in Genesis, he didn't create Fetanal or what ever 'rat poison' they sent this whistleblower I do know how vice squad operate they control vice like Priests pimped kids who had 'fallen' fallen meant they got ***** 'once' so now they hoes.... God cried tooo you would cry too if it happened to you
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Sep 24, 2022
Sep 24, 2022 at 9:25 AM UTC
Will to heal
So, our hero of tha day waz DJ Herc   He b driven’ lil Mizz Dazze ‘round, in a pimped out Merc   Queensbridge waz tha birthplace of Hip-Hop   Red alert, it just won’t stop   It will hurt uz a bit   No more than a **** wid a hit   Wee all thank Merc 4 puttin’ on dat show   Smokin’ sum **** n angel dust, wid sum real blow     A bro named, Coke LA Rock, waz also a financier friend of mine   Handin’ out goodies 2 tha children in-line, all tha time   Nickel bag half n ounce, quarter pound pow, now wee poppin’   Az long az tha music izn’t stoppin’ and tha rocks r still droppin’   If champagne waz still a flowin’, then tha freaks wood b steppin’ in line   Hotel, Motel, u don’t tell, wee don’t tell, one-time root 9   There’s notta man dat can’t b thrown, a horse dat can’t b rode   A bull dat can’t b stopped, a disco dat can’t b rocked, can u decode     Were u @ dat famous house party, thee dope   Spinnin’ tha holy crates of hip-hop, wee hope   A1 B-boy from every known neighborhood, wid a scent   From JC, Tony D’, Sweet n Sour, 2 super DJ ‘Fcukin’ Clark Kent   Sellin’ nickel bags of cannabis, 2 miss layD hoes to mi crew   Made mi coin roll into notes, helping outta few dat I knew   Hip-Hop waz made 4 peace, love, unity n fun   Still b countin’ mi riches, retired n still layin’ in tha hot sun
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Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 1:50 AM UTC
Peace, Love, Unity n Fun
Floodlights. They’re ghosts right? From our memories, Have been seized, we From the perfect dream? Drip drop drip drop Turning tricks, dropped the jack ***** when you coming back? It’s off it’s off Seldom silence serves as sight’s severance. **** chop **** chop    OW! ******* pistol clock Whip glock whipping **** How many names can you think of for a knockoff Of soda pop? I’m sorry sir you’ve got the wrong Ryan, I haven’t starred in any movies that cryin’ Old seniles, and sensitive females, so honestly claim Was the way life should have been for them. Oh in that case I’ll show you the brain, Then kick you in the *** for being so gay. Hold on there, wrong Ryan. I ain’t waiting tables, or banefully fryin’ Up **** that I spit in for women with tips worth less Than my two cents. Oh I apologize, celebrity lookalike. Must be the weather or the windshield is cracked Or the antennae are bent or the cables are jacked But I can’t seem to figure out just who you are When I’m watching the TV pimped into my car, Let’s try a few shall we Not a cook…Not a lover boi…Silence of the…Birds, if you’re a bird I’m a…Bat…Batman! Batman and Robin! Red Robin! No not a waiter… Red hearse, Fred Durst, Paris Hilton, Ryan Milton Wrong Ryan, Wrong Ryan! Oh my god, silly me I seem to have gone on a tangent you see. Tandem bicycles, all of them for free. If you would only come visit. Agreed? Of course I know that you’re THE Ryan B.
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Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 9:04 PM UTC
Wrong Ryan
expecting the ride of a lifetime hype guy with the pimped out kith jeans and the shoes that cost god knows what but he pulls me off of him so he can carefully unlace them, while i get drier than a desert waiting for him like, *** show up in sweats and a hoodie so i can steal it next time, man
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May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 5:57 PM UTC
like, ***
its the rip comin' up with much reps i keeps my eyes on the prize g'yeah i improvised on a uprise cuttin' all the dead weight competition my ammunition keep suckas in suspension or lock down when i come around i clown with the homies and the homettes got the wet wet to get my brain set for a drive-by suckas slippin' 40 sippin' 4 dippin' hittin' multiple switches laughin' at these punk sons of ******* unload my clips throw there bodies in the ditches cut off they ***** n leave it in they mouth so they know the south aint no joke loc cuz we smoke suckas til they wesley snipes color brothers like me bound for the penitentiary its a gang were all the low-lifes hang but things don't ever change im trapped inside a maze with much blunder i could've have been successful maybe if the hood didn't take me under!!! so many after me cuz we enticed to the same epitome rap is mind my mind is rap can't shake the flaks see my homie in the caddy rollin' with tha **** daddy gangsta mack kickin' drag to all the hoes with big ***** skipped hardknock classes went straight to hoods college gainin' knowledge graduated with honors from the big timers tellin' me how to make a move and don't get caught up in the groove u gots to play it smooth and be vigilant on ya closest friends cuz they'll pretend to be ya homies but after ya dividends thinkin' this bank roll they gone spend? but i lends my lue to no one only a gun up in ya grill piece thats the only peace i see you laying and becomin' one with death heartbeats slow no hards breath when i commence to ****** know ya never heard of me cuz i strike unexpectedly im makin' money by the ton thats on the one son ull catch me rollin' in a pimped out 97 honda maybe id be better off dead if the hood wouldn't take me under!!!
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Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 6:57 PM UTC
If the urban didn't take me Unda
its the rip comin' up with much reps i keeps my eyes on the prize g'yeah i improvised on a uprise cuttin' all the dead weight competition my ammunition keep suckas in suspension or lock down when i come around i clown with the homies and the homettes got the wet wet to get my brain set for a drive-by suckas slippin' 40 sippin' 4 dippin' hittin' multiple switches laughin' at these punk sons of ******* unload my clips throw there bodies in the ditches cut off they ***** n leave it in they mouth so they know the south aint no joke loc cuz we smoke suckas til they wesley snipes color brothers like me bound for the penitentiary its a gang were all the low-lifes hang but things don't ever change im trapped inside a maze with much blunder i could've have been successful maybe if the hood didn't take me under!!! so many after me cuz we enticed to the same epitome rap is mind my mind is rap can't shake the flaks see my homie in the caddy rollin' with tha **** daddy gangsta mack kickin' drag to all the hoes with big ***** skipped hardknock classes went straight to hoods college gainin' knowledge graduated with honors from the big timers tellin' me how to make a move and don't get caught up in the groove u gots to play it smooth and be vigilant on ya closest friends cuz they'll pretend to be ya homies but after ya dividends thinkin' this bank roll they gone spend? but i lends my lue to no one only a gun up in ya grill piece thats the only peace i see you laying and becomin' one with death heartbeats slow no hards breath when i commence to ****** know ya never heard of me cuz i strike unexpectedly im makin' money by the ton thats on the one son ull catch me rollin' in a pimped out 97 honda maybe id be better off dead if the hood wouldn't take me under!!!
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46
one plus one is two. Right?.                  Grass is green and sky is blue. Right? You have to be up before you come down. Right ? If I love you you have to love me too. Right?  Right?.               Smoking causes cancer                                                                                             Liquor cooks your liver.                                                                                             Stress Bums your ticker. The world owes me for this that and the other. If I have a cute face then You should let me La da da da. Get real. No ticky, no washy. Mommy kept you under wraps way past 21 Taped rose colored wrap-arounds real  tight to your head. Fed you spending account till it all turned red. Reality bites. No Ticky No washy.                              You had a nice ride all shinny and pimped.                               Daddy said "son you have to learn to only                             Claim what you earned" and now your ego has a limp. And your cool got burned. Guess what Drama king. No ticky no washy. Pulled up  to the Car wash to clean up  your  beater. A little wax on wax of to be a bit neater. pulled loose change from the tray just below the heater. You came up one fifty short and cant pay the Senorita. Guess what  Steve Jobs. N.T.N.W.
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Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 7:49 PM UTC
No Ticky No Washy
one plus one is two. Right?.                  Grass is green and sky is blue. Right? You have to be up before you come down. Right ? If I love you you have to love me too. Right?  Right?.               Smoking causes cancer                                                                                             Liquor cooks your liver.                                                                                             Stress Bums your ticker. The world owes me for this that and the other. If I have a cute face then You should let me La da da da. Get real. No ticky, no washy. Mommy kept you under wraps way past 21 Taped rose colored wrap-arounds real  tight to your head. Fed you spending account till it all turned red. Reality bites. No Ticky No washy.                              You had a nice ride all shinny and pimped.                               Daddy said "son you have to learn to only                             Claim what you earned" and now your ego has a limp. And your cool got burned. Guess what Drama king. No ticky no washy. Pulled up  to the Car wash to clean up  your  beater. A little wax on wax of to be a bit neater. pulled loose change from the tray just below the heater. You came up one fifty short and cant pay the Senorita. Guess what  Steve Jobs. N.T.N.W.
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25
I took a trip down Dreamville. So if you're reading this, it's too late I already pimped a butterfly while sippin' on ***** sprite, two of them. I found myself talking to a man name Lucci. Confused by his name but star struck because his whole outfit was Gucci. I had Nicci with me, I kissed her every now and then. She isn't my girlfriend but to the world I pretend. Until the end, until death does us part; I smoke and drink alcohol til my head is cloudy and I drown my heart. Telling myself this is the end, but really it's only the start. I want drug miney. I want new car money. I want fresh start money. Can buy famous art money. Unfortunately women cry and pour out their heart to me. Then tell me how much how much they hate it they are apart from me. Time and time again I slip into flaw. I get angry for no reason, you can tell by the clinching of my fist and my jaw. Forever leaving people in aw, and somehow they still wonder. Can barely find a meaning or scratch the surface; I'm too deep under. Little did I know, my alarm went off and I awake to a new day. Missed phone calls and messages and all of them are just to say hey. No reply. We ask why. Some cry. Sometimes I feel like I want to die. That's probably the reason why many think I;m shy. No more see you later's, just a farewell and good bye. The truth and things to endure for life cannot be seen by the eye. Somehow I see it all. Ashes to ashes, one day we'll fall. But through it all; I get down on my knees and make a call. I put everything behind me, yet my back is against the wall.
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Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 9:44 PM UTC
Materialistic (The Dreamer)
I took a trip down Dreamville. So if you're reading this, it's too late I already pimped a butterfly while sippin' on ***** sprite, two of them. I found myself talking to a man name Lucci. Confused by his name but star struck because his whole outfit was Gucci. I had Nicci with me, I kissed her every now and then. She isn't my girlfriend but to the world I pretend. Until the end, until death does us part; I smoke and drink alcohol til my head is cloudy and I drown my heart. Telling myself this is the end, but really it's only the start. I want drug miney. I want new car money. I want fresh start money. Can buy famous art money. Unfortunately women cry and pour out their heart to me. Then tell me how much how much they hate it they are apart from me. Time and time again I slip into flaw. I get angry for no reason, you can tell by the clinching of my fist and my jaw. Forever leaving people in aw, and somehow they still wonder. Can barely find a meaning or scratch the surface; I'm too deep under. Little did I know, my alarm went off and I awake to a new day. Missed phone calls and messages and all of them are just to say hey. No reply. We ask why. Some cry. Sometimes I feel like I want to die. That's probably the reason why many think I;m shy. No more see you later's, just a farewell and good bye. The truth and things to endure for life cannot be seen by the eye. Somehow I see it all. Ashes to ashes, one day we'll fall. But through it all; I get down on my knees and make a call. I put everything behind me, yet my back is against the wall.
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34
A badge without condition bought cheap, from a thrift store Lies with brass medals and plastic ribbon, from uncaring hands. A paid add on the paper floor, claps on the back from glad-hands, Claps for marrying poor, she’s worth it, all her rotten core. You walk with conceit, when the army stamped it’s boot, A doctor’s note, before the sarge could break your seat. Readies from your parent’s purse, a hand-out on the brew. You queue for ****** on the roads in a pimped-out hearse. Slurred words drawl from the dark, blood spit on the street, Fistfights punctuate grammar like an exclamation mark. You clone another you, spat from the womb cold; A mother’s love wrapped in smoke of cozened blue. There is no end to your ambition.
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Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC
Apathy for the Distopian
Summertime Alaska Sky lift up to the moon Thick cold ice mold, depends on a boom Wannasy the universe expand in your room? Can't breathe on your knees, escape from the gloom. Spaceship to the world never mind what you see It's what they hide in the cage, according to me As they stare from a distance laugh in their face Were on the moon man floating through outer the space Don't kiss then tell this is all that we have A deep crew of assassins in a pimped out van No seats but a rug and it's designed for Abu We're defying and implying almost all of the rules Keep it beepin like a monitor eye's to the sky We don't really like thermometers Ice in the pi This is Lithium iron I call it Kurt Cobain Li Fe for the dreary insane As the drip turns to pride Just lay back in the plane Not a jet but dimensions deep in your brain In the light of a spectrum cleverly made Mr. Cudi's got the sidy down right to the base In the language it is written from the A to the G With an E emphasizing future theories to be I'm an MC they like to call me D-A-N I'll be breathing in the Crush Sitting Squared in a Van Melancholy and Serene while I'm rolling the loud Sound melts like the doughnut's that roll on the ground Livid, mister fog pouring out like a boom I'm a twister of the doobie and pearl's resume And the chain is insane its ******* gold like an arch I'll be passed out cold from the ember's to march and a number that we wrote like a song Deception is a 9 and a number that we wrote like a song And a number that we wrote like a song A number that we wrote like a song We wrote like a song Like a song
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 7:50 PM UTC
lithium iron
Summertime Alaska Sky lift up to the moon Thick cold ice mold, depends on a boom Wannasy the universe expand in your room? Can't breathe on your knees, escape from the gloom. Spaceship to the world never mind what you see It's what they hide in the cage, according to me As they stare from a distance laugh in their face Were on the moon man floating through outer the space Don't kiss then tell this is all that we have A deep crew of assassins in a pimped out van No seats but a rug and it's designed for Abu We're defying and implying almost all of the rules Keep it beepin like a monitor eye's to the sky We don't really like thermometers Ice in the pi This is Lithium iron I call it Kurt Cobain Li Fe for the dreary insane As the drip turns to pride Just lay back in the plane Not a jet but dimensions deep in your brain In the light of a spectrum cleverly made Mr. Cudi's got the sidy down right to the base In the language it is written from the A to the G With an E emphasizing future theories to be I'm an MC they like to call me D-A-N I'll be breathing in the Crush Sitting Squared in a Van Melancholy and Serene while I'm rolling the loud Sound melts like the doughnut's that roll on the ground Livid, mister fog pouring out like a boom I'm a twister of the doobie and pearl's resume And the chain is insane its ******* gold like an arch I'll be passed out cold from the ember's to march and a number that we wrote like a song Deception is a 9 and a number that we wrote like a song And a number that we wrote like a song A number that we wrote like a song We wrote like a song Like a song
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40
What a shame! Even (mouth thick with honey) the poetry, tarr'd n feathered, pimped out, holstered to the inside thigh - Promiscuity as a promise, the clouds fil and zzz leet ::: sleep, sleet. Only if I'm paid. Bruise shaped acorn on my shoulder, I hide out in my car, in the cold. Hello solder, hand me a high 5! And it turns into 7, which turns into 9, which turns into night. There is no shame in words, in swallowing tiny torches and blacking out ochre eyes - say, sleepy head - If anything this [poem] is a fragment of some whole puzzle-u, a wannabe winsome trove of squiggly lines.
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Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 10:06 PM UTC
yes, sir
Nights Are For Stuff Like This It's 3am. The city's sleeping and I'm not. Lights like scattered dots burn dim outside my window. People are dreaming and I'm awake thinking of the life that's been passing through me like second hands-smoke lingering in the slowed-down traffic of my DNA. Nights are for stuff like this; stuff like silken roads through ragged hillsides, feelings blacker than night that disappear in the day light, prisms bouncing off grey ash, tiny sparks falling through trap doors, never again to be seen nor heard, nor taken for granted upon the long laid train tracks of this ongoing dance. Memory like loaded simi-trucks taking me all the way back through corn fields and hay, through old hard hitting rain that goes clank, clank in my brain. Scars cutting through my skin opening again and again like songs that you hate but can't stop singing on endless streaming highways-hitching a ride inside my mind, pitch-perfect pristine and off-key in the dark, on a night like this blue black over amber gold. I'm a million miles further away and one mile closer. Signposts loud and large selling big hopes for happy dopes, emerging eyes now gone from me peering through clouds because they can, because they probably always will. Because who knows how far they've gone and how far I've come on this night of all nights awake in the grid of passing stars and dividing lines, now merging into my lane for better or for worse where gratitude needs no promotion, because it just is or is not. Because it can't be faked. nor pimped. Because it has no need for patronizing nor apologizing. Because it's outcome, a side effect of nights like this where everything makes sense and where nothing makes any sense at all in this gigantic freeway of time that will eventually reach a dead end. Where sleep will come 'cause the poetry will have run itself off the bend. Ah yea nights are for stuff like this.
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Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 9:29 AM UTC
Nights Are For Stuff Like This
Nights Are For Stuff Like This It's 3am. The city's sleeping and I'm not. Lights like scattered dots burn dim outside my window. People are dreaming and I'm awake thinking of the life that's been passing through me like second hands-smoke lingering in the slowed-down traffic of my DNA. Nights are for stuff like this; stuff like silken roads through ragged hillsides, feelings blacker than night that disappear in the day light, prisms bouncing off grey ash, tiny sparks falling through trap doors, never again to be seen nor heard, nor taken for granted upon the long laid train tracks of this ongoing dance. Memory like loaded simi-trucks taking me all the way back through corn fields and hay, through old hard hitting rain that goes clank, clank in my brain. Scars cutting through my skin opening again and again like songs that you hate but can't stop singing on endless streaming highways-hitching a ride inside my mind, pitch-perfect pristine and off-key in the dark, on a night like this blue black over amber gold. I'm a million miles further away and one mile closer. Signposts loud and large selling big hopes for happy dopes, emerging eyes now gone from me peering through clouds because they can, because they probably always will. Because who knows how far they've gone and how far I've come on this night of all nights awake in the grid of passing stars and dividing lines, now merging into my lane for better or for worse where gratitude needs no promotion, because it just is or is not. Because it can't be faked. nor pimped. Because it has no need for patronizing nor apologizing. Because it's outcome, a side effect of nights like this where everything makes sense and where nothing makes any sense at all in this gigantic freeway of time that will eventually reach a dead end. Where sleep will come 'cause the poetry will have run itself off the bend. Ah yea nights are for stuff like this.
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40
In a blank by the shroud of the night, here by the mourning peaks, here where the snow weeps, I've lost my body in the bus to nowhere I am ever the other - rice field by the river, where flutter the kites of joy, that dustbowl where still a thing of pride to stand up to the coward in the bully's garb; You of the black flag, toting borrowed guns pimped across them holy the lands of the vile, what cause do you soak in blood, the frozen streams for? Sullied pride for some weed-highs trinkets, those grenades on your thighs; Uncloaked those that speak for you from the pedestals in our tongue who confer with us, yet whisper to the dark alleys by the sullen hour, faceless the name of the evil that stalks your soul - weep, Shakuhachi, echoing in the wells dug deep of the earth Here on this moonless night, here in the valley of pain, here I came to give you guard from the evil in your heart here I die, on the bus to nowhere.
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Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 12:12 PM UTC
Pulwama - tribute to the fallen
Man, you keep on spillin’ More than you’re a fillin’ So, you should never ever get all ya money Where ya be gettin’ all of ones honey You’ve inherited a handful of ritzy An amount I’d say is just a little itsy bitsy But I was born with a face full of glamour So I guess now, I’m ritzy and glamorous, and so much more You always did have a small mind, no matter If I had to choose between you and my ex, I’d take the latter ‘Cause your always showing off to your friends Think ya  cool, cruisin’  Rodeo Drive, in a pimped out Benz Little mama’s boy, hiding below those colored skin sketches Paying for a little salad on the side, ‘cause they all let ya call dem ******* I own it now baby and I know its all from you You owe me much more than what’s already overdue You made me who I am today, even if it took over a decade You showed me the figures I spent on your entertainment tab But ya never were really that good at basic math So before I left, I let the police know, you’re a sociopath.
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Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 7:15 AM UTC
Small Mind, No Matter
Just because I think it would be a beautiful idea if Trump & Bannon could be strapped down in a Rocket aimed for the outer reaches of the infinite starry galaxies doesn't mean I wish them gone, & just because I'd love to see Julian Assange work the mines in the deepest bowels of the high Ecuadorian mountains doesn't mean I wish him ill, & just because I'd be so satisfied by Mitch McConnell pimped out on a Detroit street in mid-winter while his man keeps an eye-out from a warm & very smooth cadillac nearby doesn't mean I wish him a tough evening, & just because I'd be real chuffed to see Paul Ryan in all his 'What Me Worry' shallow smile earnest do-gooder front be flown to Calcutta as shock-therapy & made to clean the wounds of leprous beggars, doesn't mean I'm sensing justice, & just because I really am down with that oh so sincerely evil David Duke being forced to perform street cleaning duties in darkest Baltimore doesn't men I'm feeling righteous, & just because I'm very, very o.k. with the idea & then the actual practice of some sort of natural justice doesn't mean I'm being unrealistic, a dreamer, or need to relax awhile. These are my dreams folks.
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Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 5:11 PM UTC
Just because ...
You Were so much more interesting when I thought Bela Lugosi was your uncle And though the tales of summers spent in the company of Boris Karloff and Lon Chaney Jr. were not true You had me goin', man You really had me goin' Until eventually you drifted your way and I shifted mine You pimped Kiss while I paraded the *** Pistols You never told me those stories were lies Then again I never told you that I thought they were ******** either I can't help but wonder two things 1.) Do you think I'm so naive as to still believe you were related to Lugosi, Karloff, Chaney Jr. (and MORE!)? and 2.) What if Bela Lugosi really was your uncle? No matter, we never could have remained friends I can't stand obsessive Kiss fans
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May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 8:13 AM UTC
Kevin Lugosi (not his real last name, mind you)
These Days They’re... .... ALL AROUND.... !!! A World of Human Clowns... !?! Whose Circus Is On Grounds... Now Causing Heads To FROWN... !!! Because of TERROR Sounds... And Violence That Abounds... !!! Because of Angry Youths... Joining... Militia Groups... Like Those Now FILLED With Troops... Who Are Willing And NOW SHOOT... !!! As If They’re At A Range... That Gives Them The OKAY... To Act Like They’re Deranged... ?!? And To Behave Like Modern Slaves... Who Are Paid And Trained... To... Dish Out PAIN... !!! ... Time And AGAIN... ?!? In A Vein So INHUMANE... !?! That There Is NO DOUBT... That They’re Acting Like CLOWNS... !!! To Believe That What They Do... Is RIGHTEOUS Or Infused... With Movements That Are Cool... When They’re Being USED Like TOOLS... !!! Whose Dealings Are Those of FOOLS... !!! And Those Are Words of TRUTH... !!! From Political Groups... To Those Now In View... On Apps Now Being Used... By CLOWNS Who Now PROVE... That They Are Tame Like Shrews... From Shakespearean Books... !!! Being Tricked And Pimped... To Be Limp Like ***** Who’ll Do ANYTHING... To Get Their **** Licked... By... Drug Addict Chicks... Who’ll Spread Their Lips QUICK... Just To Get... A FIX... !!! Or Like An ALCOHOLIC... Who Just CAN’T Resist... Having One More Drink... When They KNOW That They Should QUIT... !!! Today’s Clowns Are SICK... !!! And Are Affecting Kids... In Ways So PERVERSE... That They’re Bound To HURT... How Their Minds Will Work... As They Grow In This World... !!! Things Are Going BERSERK... !?!?! And Will Get MUCH WORSE... As Technology SERVES... To Mark These Words... of... REALITY Verse... !!! With A Virtual World... Where Famous Names... Now Perform In Games... To INCREASE Their Fame... By Being REPLACED... By An Image That’s Made... To Apparently Make... The World A Better Place... ?!? The Type of JOKERS... Being USED Like TOKENS... !!! Or In Other Words... ...... CLOWNS...... !!!! Whose ONLY Form of Clout... Seems To Be SELLING OUT... For... Dollars And Pounds... It’s A World Where They... Seem To Have NO SHAME... !!! So Their Names DON’T Deserve... To Be Heard In This Verse... !!! Because CLOWNS AREN’T ALOUD... !!! In These Words That DISAVOW... What These Clowns Are ALL About... !!! Embracing New Tech... That Will Now INJECT... A Way To Project... A LACK of Common Sense... !!! That Will TERMINATE Them... That’s Right Just Like... SKYNET... !!! And That Right There... Is Where I’ll End This Poem... !!! Because Right About Now... In This World of LOCKDOWNS... !!! We Are Now Being DROWNED... By... Internet Sounds... !!! And Mouths That Confound... With The Things That They SHOUT... To Their... TIKTOK' Crowds... !!!!! Who Just Haven’t Worked Out... That What They Now BROWSE... On Their INTERNET CLOUDS... !!! WITHOUT ANY DOUBT... Is A World That's FULL of... ...... “ CLOWNS “.....
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Aug 31, 2021
Aug 31, 2021 at 1:17 AM UTC
“Clowns” ... (Explicit Lyrics !!!) A Poem Written by Big Virge 29/10/2020
These Days They’re... .... ALL AROUND.... !!! A World of Human Clowns... !?! Whose Circus Is On Grounds... Now Causing Heads To FROWN... !!! Because of TERROR Sounds... And Violence That Abounds... !!! Because of Angry Youths... Joining... Militia Groups... Like Those Now FILLED With Troops... Who Are Willing And NOW SHOOT... !!! As If They’re At A Range... That Gives Them The OKAY... To Act Like They’re Deranged... ?!? And To Behave Like Modern Slaves... Who Are Paid And Trained... To... Dish Out PAIN... !!! ... Time And AGAIN... ?!? In A Vein So INHUMANE... !?! That There Is NO DOUBT... That They’re Acting Like CLOWNS... !!! To Believe That What They Do... Is RIGHTEOUS Or Infused... With Movements That Are Cool... When They’re Being USED Like TOOLS... !!! Whose Dealings Are Those of FOOLS... !!! And Those Are Words of TRUTH... !!! From Political Groups... To Those Now In View... On Apps Now Being Used... By CLOWNS Who Now PROVE... That They Are Tame Like Shrews... From Shakespearean Books... !!! Being Tricked And Pimped... To Be Limp Like ***** Who’ll Do ANYTHING... To Get Their **** Licked... By... Drug Addict Chicks... Who’ll Spread Their Lips QUICK... Just To Get... A FIX... !!! Or Like An ALCOHOLIC... Who Just CAN’T Resist... Having One More Drink... When They KNOW That They Should QUIT... !!! Today’s Clowns Are SICK... !!! And Are Affecting Kids... In Ways So PERVERSE... That They’re Bound To HURT... How Their Minds Will Work... As They Grow In This World... !!! Things Are Going BERSERK... !?!?! And Will Get MUCH WORSE... As Technology SERVES... To Mark These Words... of... REALITY Verse... !!! With A Virtual World... Where Famous Names... Now Perform In Games... To INCREASE Their Fame... By Being REPLACED... By An Image That’s Made... To Apparently Make... The World A Better Place... ?!? The Type of JOKERS... Being USED Like TOKENS... !!! Or In Other Words... ...... CLOWNS...... !!!! Whose ONLY Form of Clout... Seems To Be SELLING OUT... For... Dollars And Pounds... It’s A World Where They... Seem To Have NO SHAME... !!! So Their Names DON’T Deserve... To Be Heard In This Verse... !!! Because CLOWNS AREN’T ALOUD... !!! In These Words That DISAVOW... What These Clowns Are ALL About... !!! Embracing New Tech... That Will Now INJECT... A Way To Project... A LACK of Common Sense... !!! That Will TERMINATE Them... That’s Right Just Like... SKYNET... !!! And That Right There... Is Where I’ll End This Poem... !!! Because Right About Now... In This World of LOCKDOWNS... !!! We Are Now Being DROWNED... By... Internet Sounds... !!! And Mouths That Confound... With The Things That They SHOUT... To Their... TIKTOK' Crowds... !!!!! Who Just Haven’t Worked Out... That What They Now BROWSE... On Their INTERNET CLOUDS... !!! WITHOUT ANY DOUBT... Is A World That's FULL of... ...... “ CLOWNS “.....
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In the land of darkness Trees, fruits, and harvest Rivers, plants, and storms A land evil has taken form Was once peace, crazy, and wild Only lasted for a while The dragon the band wagon Dragging bodies seizing properties Manipulating armies Enormous platoons Under control like cartoons In the Devil's saloon Dancing to his diabolic tune His gigantic company marches A melting *** risin hot slowly rot A mass number tide by the neck Their outcomes a wreck Smacked on the face To be put in their place Slaves to a palace Whipped pimped crippled to limp Once the dragon fulfills Bursting flames begin to **** There is no need For human filth to lead Now I shall proceed My means for concentration May leave numerous devastated New world order is reinstated Renovated Innovated elevated The miracle healer People draw nearer Too much said I'm somewhat dead When proof is read The rulings have misled A death bed like sadistic dread Where the weak are led Law eat up what is fed Don't believe me? ask ted He can back up what I just said About the blinded minded dead
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 5:48 AM UTC
Once Upon A Time
Bugsy's dream Operatic fountains synchronized streams Dead music legends interpreted by cirque glamour the eyes neon and distractions gangster's paradise imploded and expanded stars in the sky out shined by fluorescent sands desert roads in summer throes craps and snake eyes piercingly like void venom artifice and slots easy as swallowing shots life: a machination of mannequins electric pulse of a new heart as mob money mobs sincerely catering service champagne rooms since greed barely sleeps and lust is always hungry... it be only history now viral and industry sin city once only an idea, a peanut from - y'know - "like whoa! what the frank??..." but gotta hand it the business took legit crooks, stashing books, making whoop... dream getaways by blue moons in blue pools privacy like freedom is a pension crap toss EXPENSIVE... where those blind to consequence can witness (convertible caddy) the highway to losing grace seeing is half believing when gambling feels like a game, and the surroundings rarely change. Where the indifferent ego Idled by self becomes a parasitic pretender talented liar actor to some... walking among the vapid vehemency of true victors & kings brilliantly glamourized in billboard lights numbingly blinking hypno hyper active analogues of high def diminishment of common folly logic displacia of senses fairy-dust of forgetting (in a Benjamin straw) duty discarded familial responsibility a hollow weight a close second to desperations the hustle was once a dance the true crime and you metro and the fool willing food flash floods and tour buses full just to be had gangster pimped out a city called it "the table" dubbed by sin stole some cash catering to our vices / service entrance in the back "What happened in vegas...?" some call it being had ...
0
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 4:37 AM UTC
Been Had
Bugsy's dream Operatic fountains synchronized streams Dead music legends interpreted by cirque glamour the eyes neon and distractions gangster's paradise imploded and expanded stars in the sky out shined by fluorescent sands desert roads in summer throes craps and snake eyes piercingly like void venom artifice and slots easy as swallowing shots life: a machination of mannequins electric pulse of a new heart as mob money mobs sincerely catering service champagne rooms since greed barely sleeps and lust is always hungry... it be only history now viral and industry sin city once only an idea, a peanut from - y'know - "like whoa! what the frank??..." but gotta hand it the business took legit crooks, stashing books, making whoop... dream getaways by blue moons in blue pools privacy like freedom is a pension crap toss EXPENSIVE... where those blind to consequence can witness (convertible caddy) the highway to losing grace seeing is half believing when gambling feels like a game, and the surroundings rarely change. Where the indifferent ego Idled by self becomes a parasitic pretender talented liar actor to some... walking among the vapid vehemency of true victors & kings brilliantly glamourized in billboard lights numbingly blinking hypno hyper active analogues of high def diminishment of common folly logic displacia of senses fairy-dust of forgetting (in a Benjamin straw) duty discarded familial responsibility a hollow weight a close second to desperations the hustle was once a dance the true crime and you metro and the fool willing food flash floods and tour buses full just to be had gangster pimped out a city called it "the table" dubbed by sin stole some cash catering to our vices / service entrance in the back "What happened in vegas...?" some call it being had ...
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A filthy corporate ********** With an advertisement on my back Pimped out by capitalist demons Turning tricks for bankers and CEO's The Johns always asking for favors And of course I get down on my knees Businesses, street corners- it's all the same Each of us selling our bodies and souls To a hedonistic society.
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Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 2:48 PM UTC
Capitalist ******
there'll be no saving it not any the entire orb overloaded toxins too many coadsorb supersaturated then abraded gone far too bye alas too late to buy time back no turnaround 11th hour saving or magical miracle in denial of why our planets health status - critical we did what we did yes we did mine blast pollute shift axis misuse & abuse bleed her dry it is mans(kind) turn for him be to wither carbon nation in degradation rock stars erosion chemical illusions a weathering of time Mother earth will rejuvenate do (the) over time yielding to years millions (billions?) once more but...only....if... then... sans **** sapiens a non negotiable must torpid audience enervate we (manunkind) made the earth into 'progresses' ***** pimped her out for a TV dinner a 100 inch flat screen a remote control life instant gratification homologating toxic emissions no ratification given by nature override permissions ego over easy (supersize default position) greed gone greasy not today not tomorrow not next year not 100 years from now but in a time long after you long after me when we and our offspring (& theirs & theirs...) long dead too earth will reset herself hostile to human life yes **** sapiens lease on this fractured land will for sure expire but the planet will regenerate and survive destructions fire ©J.C. mother earth will have the last laugh...
0
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019 at 12:03 PM UTC
dying