Beef. What is it?

I’m beefing with a bitch.
Guess that makes me a bitch too
Allow me to assist you
When I cut your wrist
Then pretend to cut my wrist too
Call me the Slasher, the one who creeps alone
I spotted your home, it’s a nice one, a true classic
You’re an independent film, I’m Park Jurassic
I hired a detective with the last of my allowance
Now let’s hit the town
And paint it


So Crazy

I’m going CRAZZZYYYY! My mind is about to BURST.!.

Like car bombing a hearse passing thru enemy turf

I don’t say, things could be worse, I say, things could be better

I’m like a cleaver minus a letter – I’m clever

I put shit together at the drop of a hat, a fallen sombrero

Funny guy,,,, like Will Ferrel

A soldier with style, Salvation Army apparel

A soldier with class, overseas getting ass

You ever think while driving….what if I just crash?

Like, I got the freedom to do it, I could literally do it

If it wasn’t for music I would have died ten years ago, maybe sooner

I can spit hard raps then switch up the swag and morph to a crooner

That’s called, versatility. Fuck yo facility. And facile abilities. I’m on another level. Another notch. I’m the type to rub my finger on a Barbie’s crotch… … and get turned on. I’m contagious and the germ is strong. I did nothing wrong except everything. I did nothing right except everything. I see the beauty in petty things. Ready slings bring rubble to enemies, a heavy sedentine.

I’m going crazy, over and over
I ride a Rover into the ground and walk the rest of the way
I crashed in a barn and slept on a heap of hay
When I awoke
I thought of a joke and wrote it down


A True Patriot

I feel like Mitch Trubisky
When he played Tampa
Imagine a football player
Taking a shit on the flag
During the national anthem

I criticize my country
Because I love it, I really do
I bleed red

You can’t doubt my love for the nation
(You really can’t)
I am the product of playing Spyro on the PlayStation
(I really am)

Adlibs. Adlibs in poetry. This is a first
Rolling up Barney
I’m smoking purp
I try a lot of things
To see what works
I feel like a guy named Dirk
Dirk Naverk

So what else? What have I not spoken
Oops I mean written
Cold hand smokes a cigarette
Da fuck is a mitten?
Remember Thanksgiving
Nah actually don’t


White Girl

I want to grab that ass and squeeze it
Pinch those marshmallow buns
That clit I want to lick and please it
My dick so hard, I froze it, I freeze it

White girl flavor, I savor, I love ya like a neighbor
Perhaps, a bit later, you meet me on 31st and Avers
So we can run a train. Nah! What am I insane?
I want the white girl to myself. Back off or I’ll blow your brains!

Mayne. That white girl smart, the white girl got some brains. I want to fuck em out of her.

Me give an onslaught of mouth-to-mouth to her

White girl superb.

I overheard

The white girl, purr for me sweetie

Drop it low. Make that ass do a deetie
Like I said befo’


My Georgian Wife

I met my wife in Georgia
The country, not the state
She said I talked too much
And on our first date
Out of her purse she pulled out a roll of tape
A joke! I was like wow. In awe of her sense of humor
She brought a prop with her and on her chest swung binoculars

What are those for?

We’re going sight-seeing, remember?

Oh, yeah. I do.

What are we gonna see? I forgot.

Well, let’s just say, we’re gonna see a lot

Oooo I like the sound of that!