Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

You will get hard hits.

So hard that your witch ass

Will let out that amber piss.

Megapunches will steal,

Your soul. They will take,

Turns like you dudes take,

Turns freaking the neighborhood,

Ho. They will run a train of,

Punches, slaps, pistol whips,

Stumps, cutting , causing

Blood  pumping through

Your arteries and veins,

Harder than the effect,

Of 1000 watt RMS speakers,

Losing all of your handsome,

Facial features. All because,

Of oh girl you thought of,

Her you were smarter.

They will hit hard, hit harder.

You will have seizures,

And lose many bodily fluids,

All because you have a call,

On your life and you want

To live like a wannabe g,

A pimp instead of more

Like a druid and have a wife.

You heard, you heard,

A call but refused to,

Listen to it. So all you,

Hear is dudes bass,

Bumping punches,

Loud laughing, smelling,

Perk and hearing that,

Your ass got no worth,

Hearing that you a,

Pussy ass witch who,

Got all my people bent,

Walking around this,

Territory like you a,

Nigga that's heaven sent.

They see your face looks,

Like its been stuffed by,

A cantaloupe and they,

Continuously laugh,

Because you got,

Their punching autographs

The fake assed mack,

Wannabe g, and pimp,

Gets pissed and pottied

On thrown in the trunk

Of Cadillac CTS and

Thrown in the ditch

Near the house of

His new witch all

Because of how he

Refused to answer

The call and receive

The fat treasure chest.

 wrote 12-28-10

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