Poetry

New Shit

I’m ready for whateva nigga
Deuce Trey. I’m strapped up. Pick the map up
It say how to hit the road hoe
I’m the perfect man
Y’all can’t do better than the perfect man
When I blam the eight, it make blood squirt from heads
I fuck bad hoes. I put in they butts a Percocet
They direct deposit your worthless check
I get money bags, a milli at minimum
I kill mo niggas than that dude at the cinema
Cineplex. I’m on the Internet and I’m outside
I leave the world wit lips. So they mouth wide.

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Possible Interactions

Random Dialogue Pt. 12

I got hired by Comedy Central

They like the way I play a guy who’s mental

Little do they know…

Producer: Ok. Now we’re gonna set the cameras here, behind you. And you just sit at your computer and do what you would normally do.

Jose: Ok.

*Jose picks his nose and smears green with a hint of red on the wall*

Producer: Wow. That’s nice.

Jose: I’m hungry. I want to eat the cheese sticks I left in the fridge.

Producer: Ok. Follow him. Come on.

*We are in the kitchen, I am leaning against the sink, eating*

Producer: This is so typical of a Jose story – it’s not going anywhere!

Jose: I rhyme daring. Feelings I ain’t sparing.

Producer: Wow. Did you guys get that?

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Poetry

Chair Munoz

I masturbated into a flower pot
And I swear the lillies grew 10 inches

Finches, they are fish
But I couldn’t distinguish them to save my life
My new wife, is life, and she’s a hell of a woman
Now I’ma rhyme that with tuhman

I kissed the TV, a young Salma Hayek appeared
I touch my own ears to make sure they are there
I comb my hair as I look to see what I’ll wear

My firstborn, I will name him or her, Chair

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