Poetry

A Legendary Writer

I’m still writing y’all
I’m combative, I’m fighting y’all
What happens when a lil nigga feels tall?
He joins the NBA and plays ball

I’m a hoopster, I hoop outdoors in all conditions
I even shoot around during the intermission
Wells be wishing I feed em a coin
I battled them all in the Battle of Boyne
I think my sound is super sonic
I act moronic, then I act intelligent
I ride thru storms on Belgium elephants
And I play the banjo, she fingers the harp
AK-47, Mac-11 humming, tears yo block apart
I’m a supernova exploding heart
I wait till sundown to throw in pitch-black dark a dart
I rub my chin and think I’m smart
A conversation with me may strike you as performance art
Because I speak as if some crazy shit is about to start

The heart pumps faster, like an impending disaster is fast approaching
I don’t need coaching, I told my coach he is but a roach in the scheme of grand things
I pull a fast one like a sprinter’s hamstring
Damn these things that I don’t agree with
I drink coffee by myself, I have no one to drink tea with
My album, I’ma leak it, it’s been a secret for too long
In my drawer is still my ex-girlfriend’s red thong
Right next to the light green bong, and ganja from the mean streets of Hong Kong

I ding, but do I dong?
Don’t ask me what’s wrong kuz a tirade will ensue
I’m in court getting sued by a beautiful dude
He said I was rude, and my lawyer’s a Jew, so…
I’m well defended, let’s stop pretending, I told the court
Ya’ll just wanna see me in person, of course, of course
My torso is not tatted, my flesh is clean
Let’s drop the moon on a trampoline to see if it’ll bounce
When I’m broke I buy weed in grams, when I’m not, I buy an ounce
I pounce on a subject like a ruthless rugrat
I’m like, fuck this! … I point at something else, And fuck that!
My truck is fat so it fits hella women, by the dozens in fact
I’m feeling like a mack. They cackling, cracking up
Kuz I’m saying shit that’s funny, shit that’s nutz
My nuts be too hairy for the faint of heart
Ah! A new poem…where should I start?

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Poetry

Funny Story

Put your hand in a toaster
The mind is a neuronal coaster roller
I know the names of parts of brains
How smart am I?
The question is rhetorical
I saw a baby on the street, crawling at my feet
It was adorable
I picked her up and deemed her parents
As deplorable
The baby I took home
But it wouldn’t stop crying,
now I’m flying in a rage
To cool off I went to a play and I threw my phone at the stage
I think I then left in a rush and tripped on a rotten log
In the trees was the baby in camma

Flauge

I’m like…what are you doing here?
Babies can’t walk?
The baby said, Shut up!
And I said, wtf
Babies can’t talk!

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Poetry

World Flow

I’m too real, man. In a way, it’s a gift
What’s with this shit about American tits?
American bliss. I feel bliss American
I dare the gin to take a double shot of a human
Fumin’? No
Few oppose Jose
But then again
Few even know Jose
I invite more people to know me
Invite more people to oppose me
I wish the whole world would oppose me
Just to see how I’ll react
In fact, I factor in the dancer in the coffee room
Toffe yoon
Like Topher Grace my hair
I wear what I wear
Without a tenth of one care

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Poetry

Like Looking Out A Window

I’m dazzling, true
If you have nothing to do
Here is where you come
Stripping nuns and
Water guns squirting – fun

On the count of 3 RUN!
Jun jun jun
I write a ton, true
Hut one, hut two – hike!
The ball, I spike

Man, give me a can of Monster
And I can work a miracle
Eat your cereal
And finish your dessert
I don’t mean to be terse
I don’t mean to be curt

My writing’s like looking out a window
On a rainy day
And today just so happens to be
A rainy day

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