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deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Fake Out

they will claim the bullet was suicide
bawling over my tragic end
I'm just writing this to let everyone know
I faked my own death
I'm done with the drama
people always up in my business
wanting to know who I'm associated with
if we be fucking like dogs
talking that bullshit talk
and how what I do will never be enough
so if this is it
you can find me in the Bahamas
sipping margaritas with your mama

People thinking I have died;
they have no more hater spirit to send.
I love that I can live many long and fruitful days;
on many fresh and crisp breaths.
If they knew, they would slip into a coma.
I am crafty, I am stealthy, I am finesse.
Standing, partying down, killing a fifth.
I am taking shots, so my haters better duck.
I have mad ammunition; this is going to be rough.
Hell yeah, my spirit is lit
as I still enjoy time with your mama
on the best beaches of the Bahamas.

walking around a broken town
thinking about how years from now
scholars will dissect these words
curious over what the meaning was
when I told you all to eat my dick
coming up with theoretics and hypotheticals
only to conclude
I quite literally meant for you all
to put this dick down your fucking throat
and choke on it till you puke
it'll be one hell of an epiphany
too bad by then i'd be long gone
packing my bags
and heading out towards the sun

Tears somehow
are shed for me as it is heard
that I have kicked the bucket; what a buzz.
"Remember he said, 'eat my dick'?
He meant that shit, and so he was banned
for gripping his dick and balls.
Then, hoping every hater would choke on his wood.
He strutted out the build then laid out in a sprawl
as if the king of the world; feeling like a g.o.a.t."
Aura is too high, and the haters' spirit is rebuked.
This is where I died and became carefree
and enjoyed life through many more dawns.
I am flying so far and so fast going up I get jet lag.
Heading out to the next destination should be fun.