……Awe forget that crap, if I have to toe tap, anything but scat, I’ma turn and holla, until I get that dollar; live in a old Impala, pop my dirty collar, speak like I’ma scholar, drop like I was Deontay Wilder. Stop thinking, you can control it, just look, you can’t even hold it, too stiff, you can’t even fold it, the cops gonna think you done stole it.
- Author: EvenwheniLie (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: November 14th, 2024 09:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.