Don’t cross me

 

 

 

 

……you know I’ll kill ya momma, just to catch you at the funeral, that’s what I’ll do to you, this shit’s not new to you, beat you down til it’s nothing left but your cuticles; on cue, I’ll step out from a few, while you stand amongst many; you Toucan Sam and I’m good and plenty, hear me, don’t fear me, get near me, and I’ll cut your sun out like a bulb, pull my ski mask down and get busy, leave you more then just dizzy, send your head flying like a frisbee, make you drop a load in your skivvies. I was doing this before you got shot out the dick into the pussy, stop acting like a wussy, it’s ok to fuss but you better not cuss, I might get mad haul off and kick you in the nuts, I’m from a different time and metropolis, you can’t topple this, fuck around and get dropped by this, this pill isn’t placebo, negro… act like you know and not like a foe, you better act like befow, you not Willem Dafoe, you Astro boy but more coy, better yet my child’s toy; I’ll strong arm rob you boy, and take all ya cash, have you acting joe, like a flamboyant moe popping fire crackers wherever I go, but I’ll be that other Moe, slapping you around like you Curly and Shemp, I’ll be that Pimp. You’ve talked too much shit to start acting frail, talking bout you was under a spell;  and don’t try to escape with that falling down the steps shit, getting locked up shit, I’ll pay your bail, then ring your bell, tell the cops your neck got broke when you fell. Nigga I’m great, you’ll get ate and pooped out, leaving no doubt where the crown should rest after the fest, then I can walk away and beat my chest.  They’ll find traces of you in my fecal matter, but I’ll still escape disguised as the mad hatter, with a pillow under my shirt so I can look fatter. Nigga I’m mo’ badder; you and your punk ass friends better scatter, before I go rat-ta-tat-tata.