Email Poem

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Poem


Little Peep Boo
gonna give a ghost face
sneak peek preview
And the Casper Whine burgs
ain’t gon like
the skeleton keyhole truth

We be thee former chain gang,
(y’all know us)
the Menace to Society butt pang

Yeah, klan bruh ... we got the lynch spirit
hanging broken limb tough
Steal it seems,
the Cottonmouth Man (with the head-cracking Cain)
ain’t beat us down enough

Spitting viper shade
is the err spray
that the head cracker love

Hissing hate, forged link made,
is the money play
When push comes to shove

Little Peep Boo
ain’t trying to 
subliminally scare you
So take a commercial break,
if your moral bowels 
have to drop a few

Just remember to press
the refresh button
When you spray the err

Steal it won’t 
conscience clearly absolve you
of the awful things you shackled allowed
sphincter lips to enamel do  do

That’s the hard truth of it — 

Little spook me 
is gonna freely grin spit
shine on some shuffling shoes

Let the sunset crimson reflection
of those mourning blue hues 
fall on pale faces
that darkly spread bad news

Lizard skin boots,
wearing dandruff suits,
are croc dropping flaky truth

Spitting viper shade
is the err spray
making follycle souls uncouth

Little Peep Boo
ain’t sunburn afraid to
nappy head bleating heart tell you:
There’s a rug on fire,
and it’s spreading to the roof

Seems the err spray can 
of Medusa worms
just wasn’t self-explode proof

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