deepundergroundpoetry.com
got My finga On da TriGGa...
aaaaaah yeah!
Mornin Brightess U!
im up again.
feel'n frisky.
got my finga on the trigga.. should i pull it?
can yall niccas handle pain
like we Northern boys handle the rain?
yall muffuckas aint ready.
too busy try'n to impress bitches..
imma lay it out flat to save us some time.
u can buy her eerthang she wants
but she'll always have the one she is truly fuck'n in the back of her mind..
maybe its this way by design.
Gods way of given the blind wat they would normally be unable to obtain or much less even find..
please allow steel to sharpen steel
keep it real. be u. stay try'd and true
if its love she lookin for
the answer aint gonna be a new pair of Prada shoes
its time u fool
thas y the gardener with the toned body
and all the time in the world to prune ur wifes bush
has her to fantasize of ur dayz back when
you loved her enough to spend time
and exchange goofy looks..
love her now. u aint promised tomorrow
introduce urself to her each morning. like u two meeting is something new.
win her love every moment..
she say she like um tall. stand on stilts to be the tallest..
take off dim shades. too coo is for fools..
or hell keep um on.. i'd love to see wat ur wife is truly willing to do...
8^/ wake up world! be willing to fight fa yours..
Mornin Brightess U!
im up again.
feel'n frisky.
got my finga on the trigga.. should i pull it?
can yall niccas handle pain
like we Northern boys handle the rain?
yall muffuckas aint ready.
too busy try'n to impress bitches..
imma lay it out flat to save us some time.
u can buy her eerthang she wants
but she'll always have the one she is truly fuck'n in the back of her mind..
maybe its this way by design.
Gods way of given the blind wat they would normally be unable to obtain or much less even find..
please allow steel to sharpen steel
keep it real. be u. stay try'd and true
if its love she lookin for
the answer aint gonna be a new pair of Prada shoes
its time u fool
thas y the gardener with the toned body
and all the time in the world to prune ur wifes bush
has her to fantasize of ur dayz back when
you loved her enough to spend time
and exchange goofy looks..
love her now. u aint promised tomorrow
introduce urself to her each morning. like u two meeting is something new.
win her love every moment..
she say she like um tall. stand on stilts to be the tallest..
take off dim shades. too coo is for fools..
or hell keep um on.. i'd love to see wat ur wife is truly willing to do...
8^/ wake up world! be willing to fight fa yours..
Published 27th Sep 2011
| Edited 28th Sep 2011
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Anonymous
27th Sep 2011 10:45pm
You say I should hear you perform. Well, I 'hear' this pretty good. You write it like you hear it in your brain and you think that's just how its done. But very few can truly get their get their conscious mind the fuck out of the way and just let it flow like this. I love reading you because when I read you I'm somewhere else - in another town, another country, another world. I find myself talkin' like you talk, walkin' it de way you walkin' it.... Your writing engages the theatre of the mind through the inner 'ear'.
This one's got additood. The ending makes it. This preacher doesn't just tell his flock 'be faithful!' He says 'you look afta dat lil' girl or I'm gon do it for ya!' Ha Ha! I'm signin' up for the seminary! Good stuff as always. R>
This one's got additood. The ending makes it. This preacher doesn't just tell his flock 'be faithful!' He says 'you look afta dat lil' girl or I'm gon do it for ya!' Ha Ha! I'm signin' up for the seminary! Good stuff as always. R>
my brother Red.. wat can i say but welcome to the radio in my head.. where this shit comes from.. who knows.. wat i do know is that it comes in loud and clear.. only wish i could catch the real good stuff.. only cause i hate being the only one to hear it.. if i try to rethink and write. jus dosen't work.. so we gon have to satisfy ourselves wit the gems i am able to harnest.. believe me bro.. i sit back and read this shit and be like.. damn!.. where was i at when i wrote that.. smdh..
and bro.. i am fuckin honor to be of any influence to ur walk and talk if it adds to the betterment of either.. i give freely.. take.barrow.have.hold from me whatever u can.will or want.. (not at all saying u need too)ijs.. this shit aint gon stop.. hell.. im jus gettin started.. 8^/ RedHot...and Sizzlin..
and bro.. i am fuckin honor to be of any influence to ur walk and talk if it adds to the betterment of either.. i give freely.. take.barrow.have.hold from me whatever u can.will or want.. (not at all saying u need too)ijs.. this shit aint gon stop.. hell.. im jus gettin started.. 8^/ RedHot...and Sizzlin..
Anonymous
29th Sep 2011 1:54pm
The reason I write, more than anything else, is to experience exactly what you're talking about. First time I wrote a poem I had no idea a poem was what it was going to be. It was meant to be short prose piece on a random prompt at a writing class (how I ended up in that writing class is another story.) The poem was about a funeral, and even though it had absolutely NO personal relevance (nobody I knew closely had died or anything) I almost choked with emotion trying to read it out loud. I thought 'DAMN! Where the FUCK did THAT come from?!! It really fascinates me. It's like there's some other person in my head dictating the shit sometimes. Not all writers get that. And very few people I know 'get' it either. In fact I think they think I'm nuts. Maybe I am. So it's nice to know there's some fucker out there even crazier than me! Thank you Bro! Now I'm going off to write a poem about the radio in MY head. Thanks for the prompt!
Anonymous
29th Sep 2011 1:56pm
The reason I write, more than anything else, is to experience exactly what you're talking about. First time I wrote a poem I had no idea a poem was what it was going to be. It was meant to be short prose piece on a random prompt at a writing class (how I ended up in that writing class is another story.) The poem was about a funeral, and even though it had absolutely NO personal relevance (nobody I knew closely had died or anything) I almost choked with emotion trying to read it out loud. I thought 'DAMN! Where the FUCK did THAT come from?!! It really fascinates me. It's like there's some other person in my head dictating the shit sometimes. Not all writers get that. And very few people I know 'get' it either. In fact I think they think I'm nuts. Maybe I am. So it's nice to know there's some fucker out there even crazier than me! Thank you Bro! Now I'm going off to write a poem about the radio in MY head. Thanks for the prompt!
