Youngest of three brothers I'm stuck being his Oldest Brother Keeper Makes you feel like shit Because your oldest brother Likes the creature called Hard Liquor which causes Him to do crazy things like engaging in sexual congress With an 18 year old girl Which is very creepy Because she has Daddy Issues
She's now been pushed past that point Her taste for life has moved way past a joint She likes that glass, action packed Turnt up with crystal meth, or give her that crack
She's never been ugly, so there's work on her back Look at that fucking ass, that pussy knows how to fight back Strap up motherfucker, you had better not kiss or eat that The boys got her ass on tape, taking a train while eating a pussy cat
Passed around the hood known as the good time chick Talking all in your ear, breath smelling like...
====~ Thank you Wally, I just took a hit and that shit made me hella mellow… Oh hello! Tonight, we will be discussing the weed industry And why we need to understand the bigotry That’s been set in place by the system
Many of you may be familiar with the legalization of marijuana In many different states But I’m gonna make an observation that feels more like farce than drama That may open the floodgates for debate
Over the years many dudes, homies and brothers ...
Get your prissy self to serving drinks You know the boss Don’t like you popping Benzedrine On break time Sure you look like a 40s starlet In that red dress with all the frills But if you get jazzed on those pills You might start spiking their cocktails With crazy medicine We might have the men Giving the women a pat down Like in airport security When the camera isn’t looking The ladies would stop patronizing us Then the men would vanish Like the wooly mammoths And...
My brain stands the risk in this track and field event.. A spear about 2.5 m in length is thrown inside my neurons.. Do you know the Olympics? How they throw javelin? Pregabalin's like the javelin throw.. Post Gabalin I called it.. Inside my head..
My mind itself in this combined event of decathlon and heptathlon.. My soul's constantly praying to escape and rest free, at least even in Babylon..
Dead is such a thrill.. Don't you want to try? /. Say your last...
A bedsit room above a street I’ve known since childhood. (This poem comes from childhood.) The street is known for drugs and poverty.
A taxi driver recently told me about a fare he drove to and from a crack house on that street. (I can’t write “crack house” unsmilingly. It’s just a funny phrase, like “batty boy” or “government integrity”.) An emaciated woman leant in the doorway. She wore a loose bathrobe, the merest courtesy hiding her breasts and bones.
You felt it once, Loved it twice. It's on your nose, On your tongue. You held it once, Held it tight. Wouldn't let go, Even when it broke your fingers so.
You wanted more, Finished it all. You grew a demand for more. You got your supply, to your snort.
I saw it all. I saw you drown. Tried to break your fall. But you were already gone. All my attempts couldn't get through you. I wish you would have seen, I've always been there for you. Zandi, honey now You're gone.