"splif" poems
Hello, my name is Reggae Reggie, and this is my confession.
I am a Reggae mon. My life is Reggae.
I love being a boombastic island boy, slouchin', couchin', and enjoyin' a splif of Reggae love.
I spend most of my time in my home, listenin' to dank Reggae.
Reggae always calmed my mind, until it told me to **** her.
I never would've don it, but sometin' changed.
Reggae
Reggae told me she was a Reggae sham.
Listenin' to screamo on the down low.
That **** What a freak.
Reggae
I was mindin' my own business, lightin' that sweet, sweet Reggae ******
Next thing I know, my hands are around her neck.
She begs for Reggae mercy.
Reggae
Next ting I know, I'm in my Reggae basement, blood pourin' all over me.
From her lifeless Reggae body.
The smell of a dank mornin' fills my house.
I love it.
Reggae
I snap out of it.
Realize what went down, downtown.
It wasn't me. It was Reggae.
Reggae Made Me Do It.
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
oo put dis paintin on me walls
me gona find out eider way
me gona drive to niagra falls
to find out who ruined me walls
*rip bing bing pop, ****** come in on line 1
no not extension 1, line 1, no wonder they call u
******
ey ***** me say to me wife
dis be yor stupid paintin,
no steve it aint (read double life)
**** you dis be ugly anyways
sorry steve, shush *****
u no i turned reggae
me name aint steve anymor
call me steve one more time
and il shove a lawnmor up ur ***
its reggae mon not steve
*rip bing bing pop, ****** come in on line 1
no not extension 1, line 1, no wonder they call u
******
johny johny, "yes papa"?
did u put dis tin on me walls?
"no papa", telling alie?
"no papa", close your eyes
smack! dont put any tin
on me walls *******
sorry papa it wasn't me
shut up, smoke a splif *******
*rip bing bing pop, ****** come in on line 1
no not extension 1, line 1, no wonder they call u
******
hoo could ave put dis ting on me walls?
maby is me smoke me a splif
me will remember if me did it or not
but me out of rolling papers
and me left me ganga in me rig
*rip bing bing pop, ****** come in on line 1
no not extension 1, line 1, no wonder they call u
******
me left me rig at me work
me boss dont no ow to twerk
me boss tink she no ow to twerk
no wan wants to break da news
me just a shy island boy
still confused bout de paintin
*rip bing bing pop, ****** come in on line 1
no not extension 1, line 1, no wonder they call u
******
love reggae
love ganga
love art
love poetry
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
takin the load down the dirt road,
thinkin about the reggae girl me once loved,
boy did i like the way she rubbed,
i notice me rasta themed pants had a little bump,
me third leg was feelin a little stiff,
i decided to light me a little splif,
me started to rub thee bumb in me pant,
no way i was bout to stop, no way, no chance,
i feel a sensation, me son is Croatian,
me lost control of me rig and next ting ya kno,
me in the ditch wit at sticky hand,
me **** leg cost me 1900.00 annually in
insurance. me learned dat me dont
have much indurance. da lesson to be
learned is if your feeling an itch on ya
**** leg, pullover because if ya dont
you be broke as a reggae boy lost at sea
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC