"pimping" poems
Over and under,
I'm getting higher.
You know that you love her,
No player for flavour.
Rolling and hitting,
I'm taking you higher.
Shit's kicking, nobody's pimping,
I got my heart with her.
Pimping sipping this words,
Them poor got you *******
Living and breathing,
All for that money you dissing.
So grab your ***** a ***
She'll be digging deep for golds.
Drag your *** back home,
No player ******* fools.
Get your karma proof,
And I toss them 7 folds.
This gangster loving fumes,
Got me hook, your love, I'm ******
Don't be tripping on your homie bag's cold,
For I'll always love you, we're gold
©2013 Maman Screams
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
Set the cheetahs on the loose
There's a thief out on the move
Underneath our legion's view
They have taken Cleopatra
Run run run, come back for my glory
Bring her back to me
Run run run, the crown of our pharaoh
The throne of our queen is empty
We'll run to the future
Shining like diamonds in a rocky world
A rocky, rocky world
Our skin like bronze and our hair like cashmere
As we march to rhythm
On the palace floor
Chandeliers inside the pyramid
Tremble from the force
Cymbals crash inside the pyramid
Voices fill up the halls
The jewel of Africa
What good is a jewel that ain't still precious?
How could you run off on me?
How could you run off on us?
You feel like God inside that gold
I found you laying down with Samson
And his full head of hair
Found my black queen Cleopatra
Bad dreams, Cleopatra
Remove her
Send the cheetahs to the tomb
Our war is over, our queen has met her doom
No more she lives no more serpent in her room
No more it has killed Cleopatra
Big sun coming strong through the motel blinds
Wake up to your girl for now, let's call her Cleopatra
I watch you fix your hair
Then put your ******* on in the mirror, Cleopatra
Then your lipstick, Cleopatra
Then your six-inch heels
Catch her
She's headed to the pyramid
She's working at the pyramid tonight
Working at the pyramid
Working at the pyramid tonight
Working at the pyramid
Working at the pyramid tonight
Working at the pyramid
Working at the pyramid tonight
Working at the pyramid
Working at the pyramid tonight
Pimping in my convos
Bubbles in my champagne
Let it be some jazz playing
Top floor motel suite twisting my cigars
Floor model TV with the VCR
Got rubies in my **** chain
Whip ain't got no gas tank
But it still got woodgrain
Got your girl working for me
Hit the strip and my bills paid
That keep my bills paid
Hit the strip and my bills paid
Keep a ***** bills paid
She's working at the pyramid tonight
You showed up after work I'm bathing your body
Touch you in places only I know
You're wet & you're warm just like our bathwater
Can we make love before you go
The way you say my name makes me feel like
I'm that *****
But I'm still unemployed
You say it's big but you take it
Ride cowgirl
But your love ain't free no more
But your love ain't free no more
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
Oh Mr Sentinel ***** you *** with the bullwhip and echo tongue
For four hundred years they had your fathers and mothers
toiling the sugar and cotton fields no better than oxen and horses
They were all beasts together without rights or gain
All you knew was what Babylonians put in your heads
Your perceptions are nothing but that of a slave
As bright as those of the oxen and *****
That were your mates
Now you sit here thinking you're Bob Marley without stringed guitar
you may have a pen in hand but nothing much has changed
what you call a brain is just a dusty mirror from ***** in the Plantation mansion
you are just the *** overseer who gives your *** to ***** at night
payment for echoing his words and ******* a **** on Saturday
Who are you really but a mindless carcass with no class
Your momentum comes from ***** and is *****
it's 21st century and you are still a Sentinel on the cotton fields
You come cracking your bullwhip talking trash
your ****** *** still has a ten dollar price tag hanging off it
the mixed blood of your ancestors fight for dominance in vain
four hundred years of slavery and you're still in chains mind asleep
there's freedom in the sun whether in tropics or in snow town
freedom is a mind unchained to massa's bulls and stunted ****
Show me the freedom of a ******* Sentinel the mottafucker chicken
Go find your ******** radicals and do your worst, how did your pimping go in Liverpool.
or where you too busy spinning your **** in Birmingham Alabama.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC
In his eyes I see the truth, that's why I believe,
In every word he speaks, that's why I don't leave,
I don't even understand sometimes, what he does to me,
For some reason I can't stop, as hard as it may be.
His aura is contagious, he inspires me to go,
His words repeat in my head, that's why they are all I know,
His instructions are my life, I gotta get this dough,
As long as he keeps it pimping, I will be his ***
Others don't understand it, honestly neither do I,
But when I think of the alternative, I can only ask why,
I'm not a square, that will never again be my life,
I'm married only to this game, I will never be anyone's wife.
I'm the real thing, a real one, he made me this way,
Until he makes me leave, that's how long I will stay,
No other could have me like this, I don't listen to what they say,
Juice is a real one, the only one , who I will ever be down to pay.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 8:47 AM UTC
*Slammed to "Pick Up the Pieces"
by Average White Band*
Life's a jungle I have found
Torn to pieces all around
There are foxes - there are hounds
Zoos where wild things abound
Just listen to the funky sound
Now we're going underground....
Underground where rabbits go
Down tunnels in a faster slow
It's all over, don't you know
Pick & Shovel, Rake & ***
You're down with it, on the low
Like you're Edgar Allan Poe
Feast or famine - friend or foe
It must go on... The Truman Show...
*Jigsaw pieces - play the game
It is just a crying shame
Dance for dancing - Fame for fame
Break a leg and you are lame
No one'll ever know your name...
**PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES***
You're a tiger, nothin' nice
You've been bought, you had a price
Yeah, you tore off quite a slice
Well, some are men and some are mice
Some eat meat and some eat rice
Some are fire - some are ice
Some are ticks and some are lice
Let me give you some advice...
Just so you are never boring
While you're out there pimping, *******
While you're the one they are adoring
Just watch out for polished flooring
Don't break loose from your fast mooring
Into the pit you will be soaring
After that there's no restoring
Listen to the lion roaring...
Chorus
Here we are in the U.S.
We are pampered we are blessed
Sometime soon there'll be a test
We'll ride the Bronco way out West
The Magnificent Seven rides abreast
There's a new Sheriff, have you guessed?
With a tin badge on His vest
He does not play - He does not jest
I'm afraid, I will attest!
It won't be fun, just wait and see
It will be "pain" with a capitol P!
On this bus, don't ride for free
This is not a game of Wii
There's a port and there's a lea
There's a shrub (Bush), and there's a tree
There's an us, and there's a we
**There's a YOU, and there's a ME...
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES
PICK UP THE PIECES**
SoulSurvivor
(C) 9/14/2016
https://youtu.be/xpflST8xWm8
"Pick Up the Pieces" extended version
Average White Band
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 4:51 PM UTC
Uhh..God bless all the real ones mane..
ONLY FOR THE REAL ENTERTAINMENT..
Aye (I'm pimping3)..pimping..Uhh,Yeah..(I'm pimping4)..(pimping..I'm pimping..I'm pimping*3)..Uhh,Aye
..(I'm pimping4)..Yeah mane..Uhh..(I'm pimping3)..pimping,..
Young Ston..Only For The Real mane,..Yeah
(I'm pimping*4)..pimping
/(I'm pimping2)...the industry like Bishop Don Juan mane,Yeah/2
Yeah,..(I'm pimping3)..like the bishop....Yeah mane..(I'm pimping3)..pimping, like Bishop Don Juan homie..Yeah, I'm pimping the industry, they ain't gone play me..(I'm pimping2)..like the Bishop.. (I'm pimping2)...like Fifty..(I'm pimping2)..the industry just like Don Juan mane, (Aye Yeah I'm pimping3)..I'm..(pimping2)..like Kat Williams....,Yeah mane,aye..(I'm pimping2)..Yeah mane..Aye
Ain't nobody gone play me, they better not even try to homie, **** I'm way smarter than what I look like mane, I'm too wise to be another industry puppet aye..ain't nobody around me, ******* **** or falling in the white mans society trap..We all surpassing the **** ****
/yeah..(I'm pimping3)/2
Like Bishop Don Juan my *****
/yeah..(I'm pimping3)/2
Like Fiffty..
I **** so hard, like DJay.., I'm the Mack mane call me Goldie.., no free me, because I'm never getting caught homie, I'm dodging the police..like, El Chapo mane.. **** the laws homie.Imma **** my nig..dawg..I grew so fast at a very young age,shit I had to why wait...Yeah I had to get my **** together sooner than later mane. No more kidding around homie,..Aye, I wanted to put all of my depression under my feet so I could get my mind right mane, so I started smoking the pacc at 15 mane, I was kinda going down the wrong street, God had to correct me, Thank you so much Heavenly Father, you always pleases me..Ayo..
I'm pimping the industry like Bishop Don Juan mane..Aye..
Aye (I'm pimping3)..pimping..Uhh,Yeah..(I'm pimping4)..(pimping..I'm pimping..I'm pimping*3)..Uhh,Aye..Yeah
(I'm pimping*4)..pimping
/(I'm pimping2)...the industry like Bishop Don Juan mane,Yeah/2
Yeah,..(I'm pimping3)..like the bishop....Yeah mane..(I'm pimping3)..pimping, like Bishop Don Juan homie..Yeah, I'm pimping the industry, they ain't gone play me..(I'm pimping2)..like the Bishop.. (I'm pimping2)...like Fiffty..(I'm pimping2)..the industry just like Don Juan mane, (Aye Yeah I'm pimping3)..I'm..(pimping2)..like Kat Williams....,Yeah mane,aye..(I'm pimping2)..Yeah mane..Aye
Yeah.., I'm pimping the game, while these other musicians too ***** & afraid to spit the truth mane, but not me homie, its my job to let my ****** know whats real, instead of influencing them in a back of a hearse man, Yeah..
Im feeding yall ****** life instead of death, so listen clearly,.. Yeah ***** I'm preaching , Yeah I'm preaching (Yeah*2)..Only The Holy Spirit coming through me..Only wisdom coming, outta my mouth mane,..,Im blessing the street ****** with knowledge, Aye.Yeah..
OFTR no false claiming my gang or you will get delt wit discreetly mane, if you know what that mean, just stay lo key away from me.
..Yeah OFTR,.
I does this for my family, we standing tall against, Satan Yeah..(I'm pimping*3)..pimping.. Like Kat Williams..Aye,
Yeah..I'm pimping the industry like Bishop Don Juan mane..(Yeah*2)...
I'm pimping.. Uhh, This is my story,..,show & tell, so I'm only telling yall real shit..let's get it man..Yeah..Aye..
I'm pimping...
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
I see a country
Where the art of ******** reigns supreme, I see an ethical ship that's sinking
But I'm too focused on my future to worry about these stagnant 'leaders' and their backward way of thinking
I see a nation that is in a race, that could be sprinting, instead what we're doing is limping
They sell us out to the highest bidder, I see what they are doing...it's pimping
And they claim it's illegal...
I see a monkey..
Swinging from tree to tree
That monkey being a representation of you and me
Swinging off and grabbing at branches
In search of that ever illusive 'opportunity'
I see pimping
I see a society encouraged to operate in unity
But, while we confer
I see our 'pimp' exercise that 'divide and conquer'
They say, what doesn't **** you makes you stronger
I concur, that we are
But I ask, for how much longer?
I see a leadership that chooses to see whatever it wants to see
One that is supposed to mirror me, but in it, there is no reflection of mine I happen to see
I see a leader that seems to want to do right by us
Surrounded by leutenants that seem to be encouraging him to drive right by us
And not see
I see a lot of cracks in the way they are running this state and it's obvious
I pray that I may be forgiven for stating the obvious.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
Locked from the top
is a Tuesday night rockstar
cut on the weeds and steam
off of cars speeding by. Tearing off the graceful bonds
called bone sweet
carving flesh pulp
strange and the blood
candy cane ruby red
to the grass bedding below.
Fast lane puppets
caught at lights six miles later. Five year old wails
about God pimping coke addicts with
gloves on,
gloves off,
pounding on asphalt doors
hiding camel toe shots--it's raining inside. Her pants are down
in the gutter--scene on TV, reality on fire.
Living in tail lights
till the red blushes
at the cute landlord watching the gore
past the building dishes and shot glass
eyes burned out of lost friends
from staring at blown bulbs.
Mumbling nirvana crawling like beetles
from tripping lungs
taking the same bible spine
away from yesterday. The junk that tickles,
makes the moon spin,
mad women dance
in the bankrupt birth
of humid H-bombs.
Shovels scoop up gravy
for wood chippers, the springs of History
foaming at the mouth,
shredded to delicate words such as 'fault'
'blame', 'regret'.
The stoop kids play card games as the sirens wail
and another turn passes.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 11:15 PM UTC
the oil of the high grade pollen
coated in sticky honey-like crystals
old school wrap and a vaporizer
instills calm where there had been chaos
oh how the mighty have fallen
offers to go places
live music in an alleyway bar
cocktails till dawn
a rave under a motorway
the Sub Club for legendary libation
and mingle with familiar hazy faces
and yet,
he warms to the four walls of home
the symmetrical wooden rail border
the OCD driven picture placement
the videos in genre specific
alphabetical order
outside the city streets throng
stag-hen crews in costume
tourists off the beaten path
seeking the Water of Life
students drinking the bank of mum and dad dry
mid-week workers letting of class A steam
that for some is clearly too strong
the hordes
of bar ******
pimping their Versace
and Primark combo
any Glasgow bar
where looks could ****
bar telepathy
means he no longer
even has to speak
just have the fiber
to clear the bill
This he calls home.
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 9:04 AM UTC
I walk a path paved in penciled graffiti,
Where outlined music notes
Amuse my anecdotes,
I walk with break beats in my blood,
With brain waves pounding bass drums,
I got liquid
808 fingertips
And lips
Malted with crossfade grins
To spin surges of synergy
Out of bottled up battles,
Even my baby rattles
Used to shake with rhythm.
Wars
Should pause for music.
The power of harmonic symphony
Just pimping me,
Creeping up through cracked sidewalks,
Wrapping shadows around legs,
Up hips to necks
As it grabs,
Just pimping me,
A dance floor ***** with
Peace in and of mind,
In circles of 32
Note by note,
That lump of emotion
In my throat
Could choke,
With neon freedom.
Maybe it’s a pipe dream,
That we could put down the guns
And rave to the drums,
That even silencers will be silent,
And the smell of gunpowder
Will squander for an hour,
That there will be a day with no death,
A day free of neurotic nail biting mothers
Holding their breath,
That their children will walk our land again,
A day that suicide bombs
Won’t detonate,
That cries of loss and sadness
Won’t resonate,
A day that we won’t decimate,
Our own race,
The human race
Maybe it’s a pipe dream,
But that’s my pipe dream.
I’ve spanned seas to see,
That music brings harmony,
I’ve danced along
An African diplomat named Ife,
Which means love,
A Polish carpenter named Sebastian,
Which means dignity,
A Vietnamese banker named Ly,
Which means Lion,
And collectively,
We,
We're individuals,
Smiling to that same pumping beat,
That,
Breakbeat,
That brain wave pounding bass drum,
That strum laced
With a graceful hum,
Making our race numb,
There was no color,
There was no history
Because my history
Won’t dictate me,
Not that it's non-existent,
Not that I’m resistant
To believe that people hate
Because of the past,
But I understand personalities,
And believe
Everyone deserves a fair shot
At being an individual
Everyone deserves that music,
Everyone deserves to have
That path paved in penciled graffiti,
Where outlined music notes,
Amuse their anecdotes,
Everyone deserves to feel
Breakbeats in their blood,
And brain waves pounding bass drums,
Those liquid
808 fingertips
And lips
Malted with crossfade grins
That spin surges of synergy,
Everyone deserves what we have to offer,
Everyone deserves,
To dance to their own breakbeat
Of peace
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 9:40 PM UTC
1.
Tears of laughter
Veil tears of frustration
Improper reflection
On taboos and tragedies
Burning cities
And dying loved ones
This is not where the
Laughter comes from
But it is where the laughter
Is needed most
2.
Is it irony
The unexpected juxtaposition
The transition
Of awkward positions
Self-pimping
Prostitution
Of my spirit
Disintegration of my dignity
Jowls dropping
Howling non-stopping
Coping with the insanity of
This world
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
the broken vase
the ludicrous image and the sun
sentenced to reality
we seek escape in the brothel of the world
where tender youth is bartered, sold
and ultimately destroyed
and they become as us
one with the ultimate sin
of poverty
naked we come and naked we go
but in the meantime we are
hardly more than liars
pimping dead images and the sun
hoping all who see us
become sick with sadness
as they succumb to grief
we cudda been lovers
but we couldn't contend
with the sense of full
responsibility
ultimately only pure strength remains
after the destruction
of the world
Mar 11, 2011
Mar 11, 2011 at 9:52 AM UTC
Well, it begins again.
Just like it did before.
And Did you notice,
That it's rich versus poor?
If your share is growing,
Well, it's okay keep score.
But if you're struggling,
You better work more!
If greed wins again,
it's another century,
of ****** war
Kids, if she lives again,
then what did we die for?
Now we sin again,
such a disgusting chore
But we only wanted,
just a little more
The paper is so good,
Ummm, something to die for!
If you ain't got it,
They'll string your noose boy!
So here we stand again,
another fascist century,
of ****** war!
Now they're pimping Liberty
A ****** nose
Her clothes all torn!
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 10:03 PM UTC
A huge farm
Endless walking
I forgot who I was
Forgot my middle name
How I sign my signature
Gave my voice away
Flexed my throat like a professional
Teeth on display
I thought I’d see a black cloud
Or a gang of hands
Enveloping me
Choking me
But I was just left
Out in the bright light
With no disgusted eyes
Looking my way
Nobody asking for explanations
Just me talking to myself
Slit his ******* throat
So he doesn’t repeat
The story about his best friends
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 6:25 AM UTC
Nothing speaks to the heart
Like the wind whistling alarming the dark
Hurricane pains a innocent man behind bars
Or the water that dripped through..
That the levies should have caught
Katrina I remember that girl
I promise no one was meaner
Of course she rain dropped after her uncle ***** pedals from her flower
No sweetener that's why her kiss was sour
Its wild how pain produces prostitution now she linked to a coward
Pimping ain't easy cause we all were birth from a woman
Mothers dealing with men with frozen tundra emotions
Heartless what speaks to a chest cavity where a heart is missing
Just Jesus
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 11:24 AM UTC
We are raised with society surrounding us,
yet we feel the need to distinguish,
in-group ourselves with the outliers,
to live with our anguish.
In doing so we gain some right,
believing that different makes us better,
rather than live in that ignorant shroud,
and stand together loud and proud.
What we don't understand is in our drive to survive,
and seem entirely different,
we ourselves have joined a society,
and with that we have fallen into proprieties.
Hot Topic, and the slop that is gangster,
we wear to create a wall,
between us and conforming society,
who unlike us never heard the call.
The call to greatness,
the call to art,
the call to pimping,
we all had a start.
And now we sit in our ****** homes,
(trying to) make money by day ,
thinking where we went wrong.
How did I fall out with so many opportunities,
where did I fall off the wagon?
Well kid, it happened when your pants started saggin,
when you wore the black to stick out from the white,
when you refused to try because nobody "got it",
and when you were always looking for a fight.
It's easy to put the blame on someone else,
how else can you live with such dissonance?
Maybe if you had shut up and listened,
instead of dirt you would be the one who glistened.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
The first flower of spring,
The first flake of snow,
The first walk in the rain
While warm breezes blow,
The first pinkened cheeks
As by sunlight kissed,
This is what I would have missed.
Grandchild's first steps,
His first words spoken,
The first hand held,
As he's gently awoken,
His first day at school,
his first girl kissed
This is what I would have missed.
The honour of becoming old,
And seeing wrinkles in my frown,
Pimping my mobility scooter
And roaring on it around town,
Laughing with the OAPs
While I fulfill my shopping list,
Coffee on a chilly day,
This is what I would have missed.
Apr 6, 2023
Apr 6, 2023 at 11:58 AM UTC
Make me *** and I'll come for you, until they pull me down and make me cough out loud. I'm a street named Chance and I'm awful loud, I read right to left. I hear colors not sounds. I'm a maniac, maniac, for Empire Carpet. I've been hospitalized for being honest, and condescended to for living life on the edge, with a knife in my bed, a pillow under my head. Where I've pollinated my sheets with the easements of sleep, and circumvented my best friends just to shake up the news. I've been used, I've been lied to, I've been amused, I've survived abuse, I've been bruised, I've leaned toward the obtuse, I've leant forward for truth, and I've written down my upsides and foretold my mishaps, I'm a backwards commando for import and export of hazmat, and especially bath mats, CB2 or IKEA, Bed, Bath, and Beyond, or just farther beyond. I remain calm, while the adverbs stack in my palms, it's the trick of word pimping to work verbs into adjectives, articles attached to their nouns, an ellipsis or eroteme, a period or comma. I said I am ******* so now won't you come. I've evolved what I've said into parts of a song. So push back on me and I'll push back in you, I'll take your words and re-dedicate them into consonants and vowels. Hang up your heraldry, and never put down your *** Keep your habits to bedrooms, and your words to never forget.
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 12:01 AM UTC
Remeber when I gave you the ring.
I wore it that night around my neck.
Thinking I would never have a chance to give it to you
So parking lot pimping turned into a night in jail.
You were my first call somehow knowing you would answer.
I came out shirt torn, bruised and mouth ******
I had a smile on my face, not because I was proud of what had transpired but because you actually gave a **** to show up.
I pulled the ring out of my pocket rope and all. Handed it to you saying ”I forgot to give you this”.
I rufused to go to the doctor a decision im still second guessing.
Took you out to eat. Subconsciously knowing you had been wanting to go to hayashi .
Held your hand in love and appreciation knowing that I would never want to do that to you ever again.
You wore the ring it was pretty much a perfect fit.
I tried my best to keep that promise engraved on it.
I did things I would never do for another who I did not love.
I may have my demons, but for you in your time of need they could never get in the way.
Now it probably sits in that little jewelry tin case in your new aparment with you not even giving it a second glance.
But if you ever decided to pick us both back up. It reads.....
” given in love for proctection”.
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
i better become an anecdote, an anecdote well hidden, otherwise poland will become the new mogolia having to ingest and regurgitate the holocaust; with english middle-crass opinions citing a need for plumbers... hey... i'll block your loo for free! and i'll block it without even using toilet-paper! look here... 1 (index), 1 (middle) and 1 (ring finger)... now comes the mascara!
why? why?! i'll tell you why!
za jasno! za jasno!
(too bright! too bright!)
why are these *******
allowed cars and lights ahead
of them to illuminate and
i'm not allowed sunglasses
just because it looks weird?
they gave men capitalism
with the slavic pope, and *******
to the girls... mass expulsion...
the pretty girls weren't pretty any more,
just average on the streets...
you know, average, worth keeping,
no jealousy about...
all the jealousy went into pimping
beauties to french jocks and arab
sheiks... love story of the year,
a sheikh paid for two twins being born...
i wish i was home,
even with mother russia looking over my
shoulder... at least ethnicity would match...
you know the pain i had watching
a polish girl get spat on by a neanderthal
netherlander?! i hoped for an invasion of europe
by islam.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC
You be like my tats under my skin, complaining like a ***** because that's exactly where you been, chilling with ******* and you irritating me, got the Ralph Lauren on move, so vicious, doping down with girls who like the swish swish, rolling up my wood, blow an ounce to this as we all should, pull up on you, with brr brrr from in the skrrt skrrrt doing as I do, ***** I been a promo, keep it on the low low but I can't never not be your homie, let's roll up dope go out back and take a smoke, and now you trashass ******* keeping up with me but I'm making no switches, drop top out for burnt out count, but I never make a fuss, ***** I ain't never make a sound, try to never flex out more, you out looking like a clown, you wanna silence me, well good luck with that I'm still to be found, other rappers see me blowing gas as I surpassed you, you see I take that feeling and I cut it through, I'm always on the go, always on the move, and I got the champagne flu, we mix it with the orange juice, pockets so big but can barely hold my brews, taste of mango, lost in the polo, now I'm rolling solo, to you I blow over, never stop the best work working on it 24/7, pimping my fakeass motor, still looking for my heaven, now I guess it's gone, head back to my residence, try find myself out, I'm the counterintelligence, ballin like a laker, like a baker, but I ain't cooking dough, nothing for now but check my flow, can work this like it's nothing, all you ******* can't mess, I'm strawberry fluff'in, have a 1000 ******* and I never bluffing, rocking my shift cos I came from nothing, now I got on the gucci socks in the bathtub, everyone lil bit jeason but that's the thing, you know it's 15 years and that ain't no discussion...
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 2:04 PM UTC
Nothing speaks to the heart
Like the wind whistling alarming the dark
Hurricane pains a innocent man behind bars
Or the water that dripped through..
That the levees should have caught
Katrina I remember that girl
I promise no one was meaner
Of course her rain dropped after her uncle ***** pedals from her flower
No sweetener
That's why her kiss was sour
Its wild how pain produces prostitution now she linked to a coward
Pimping ain't easy cause we all were birth from a woman
Mothers dealing with men with frozen tundra emotions
Heartless what speaks to a chest cavity where a heart is missing
Just Jesus
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
Indigent / outcast
trailer trash
flotsam.
We are products of our surroundings.
Or is it upbringing
Taken / down
Far from home
If it's where the heart is...
"Worthless idiot"
She spits on me
Like her rednecks and *****
Big pimping
Her tricks
Quick to flick
Their Bics and *****
Bringing home the other
Black.
Reynolds wrap and points at the back
Hiding in the thickness
Of weeping veils
Of willows
Outside the picket fences
Just beyond Royale Park mobile
Some kind of
A Community
Missing it's gate
All the times shivoo
Since the South is clammy
Sweat shop swamps
And blistering
Hot like Gold
Coast fires / petrol dragons' breath
(She's a mockery
Of the word -- revelations
Turning
Now napkins and coasters
Tissue for ****** noses.)
Vagrant vespers
In the dark
she lets the men
Inside her double wide
Inebriated bruises
Polka dot excuses
Even in the city
It's funny
How the homeless can hide
Out in the open
Escape.
Indigent / outcast
Trailer trash
Minutiae boy
Barely half / legally life blind
And lucky to be alive
Still in search of
Some kind of
Home.
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 1:37 PM UTC
Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping ******* plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian
puppeteer pygmy, peevishly ***** plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,
parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements
projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,
polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial
principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball
players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote
phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 7:48 PM UTC