Snitches Poems | Examples

DISHES

I'm the vibes, they're the vipers 
I give healing, them keep killing 
Words my medicine, call me words smith
Deceit and betrayal their weapons
I call them cobra, them are snitches.

I'm the owner
Them the controller 
I always act like 
I own or know nothing 
They're so ruthless
Acting like they own or know it all.

I'm the completer
They're the competitor 
Always fight for something 
While I ride for my things
Everyone with their own obligation 
Paying attention to whatever they belong.

Back In The Day

Written By:  D. Collins 2/15/25


We all did grime to survive back in the day.
Some go caught up, while some of us got away.
I place no judgement on whatever it takes to eat.
By Any Means Necessary, put toys under the tree.


Back in the day snitches didn't exist.
A bid in Angola was a slap on the wrist.
You just come out the way you went in.
A man amongst the most ruthless of men.


And, if repetition is what puts food on your plate.
Do what you do, just like back in the day.
How they live uptown is how you strive to live.
And, whatever it takes, a man feeds his kids.

Snitches

Those poor souls who think they will get farther ahead at work if they tattle on you

The end of a hustler

Russell was slim and did like to hustle, but on his arm he packed some serious muscle

Most of the time he liked to gamble, but when things got hot he was quick to scramble

Fraud and deceit is a way to survive, this easy money is what keeps him alive

He hated snitches, but he loved his crew, this is the only life he ever knew

At daytime a hustler, at night a playboy, but Russell was never a rich man’s toy

The people in town knew he was bad, but what happened to Russell was really sad

One morning when Russell was crossing the road, he got bit in the eye by a flying toad

As his vision blurred and day became night, it turns out that poor Russell had lost his sight 

Now Russell sits alone flexing his muscle, wishing that he can once more Hustle

Saleh Ben Saleh

Troll footle

scrolling 
      trolling

clicking
      tricking

to cheat
      deceit 

snitches
     glitches 

lame game
     for fame 

peeving
     thieving

maybe
    they’ll see

jester
    fester

traitor
   baiter

drama
   mama

dressed in
          satin

green grime
         cold crime

     loner
         moaner

Last Exit

Finely-tuned eyes; transparent disguise
Charisma in lies concealing blue eyes
I know you’ll have questions for likely suspects
You’ll squeeze all your snitches for everything left

But, reading this now, you know to be true
My eyes like the ocean; adrift in the blue
So take me away in the last midnight car
Forgetting all the pain that led me this far

Captivity leaving me feeling confined
This body of mine is flawed by design
Beg of me softly; and show me you care
Now, witness the flame engulfing my hair 

Breathe into me, my last fantasy
Bring to me wounds to wage against me
Lost in remission; my crimson will glisten
My methods persistent; lean in and listen

Witness the rise and the fall of my chest
The cage that was built for a final caress
I’m rising above perceptions of me
Cause nothing is ever as right as it seems

So tell them the stories; dark alleys I knew
The paths that I walked; a sunrise in view
I’m free of designs in dead pine below
With smiles to align; fallen angels you know

Will the Russian Mafia Sit This One Out

Will the Russian Mafia sit this one out,
Or will they decide Ukraine's Ultimate fate,
Along with that of Putin.

I suspect we will have to wait for the answer to that,
Until discussions are concluded with the Italian Mafia,
Who have not forgotten life under Mussolini.

They will also have to consider which way the western gangs will jump,
As they might decide to collectively develop a conscience,
Or turn snitches,
And make deals for get out of jail free cards,
In exchange for location of Russian Mafia Funds.

I suspect watching their considerable investments in the Ukraine,
Go up in smoke,
Will give them no choice but to look for,
Suitable sympathy cards for Putin's family.

Dedicated To the Two Most Beautiful Doctors In the World

hello dear doctors
i am here to say i'm sorry
i am an idiot
i admit it
i feel better than i have felt in, well, LIFE

i fell one day and hit my head hard on the original hardwoods
my new lady was not having it and practically threw me in the impala
going off on me with tears in her eyes, i wisely sat and listened while staring at unexpected stars

arrived and parked, my new lady and a nurse help me in a wheelchair
i tried to complain, but my new lady just finished a double shift and was not in a mood
she helps me with the paperwork
she glares at me at my mildest complaint
when i am called, my new lady comes with me and just snitches on me to the doctor, who so happens to be a woman too
I LOSE!

good morning, my sweet, observant, and rather persistent, new lady
my love for you has only grown more after another good night's sleep
who knew that i had two blood clots on each side of my brain
i thank God for your love for me
you, and the equally sweet (questionable), observant, and rather persistent doctor, are the reason and am alive and smilin'.....(at you, and only you, of course)

Misson of Hope and Faith

The unicorn eggs had been hidden many fortnights ago,
The last to remember them was a Prophetess named Woe.
She had written down the secret sign to open the safe of gold
But it had blown under the throne room floor and now lay cold.

Because it was their tradition, armed guards continued to stand guard.
No idea they were guarding priceless unicorn eggs loaned by a bard.
A magical castle this had once been, with glorious tapestries and such.
War of the Giant Blasters had torn it apart; now it was not much.

Troupe of faeries were hired. They had given king the smallest bid.
On a mission of hope and faith, for they knew what Wow did.
When they chopped up the floor, they tunneled into the unopened safe.
Squirreled magic unicorn eggs to fairy land for their Princess Grace.

Guards continue to guard the gold safe daily, thinking it holds riches.
It truly is practically empty but sh! None of us want to be snitches.
One day someone will  give you some released unicorn eggs.
Then there will be rainbow unicorns prancing about under your legs!

The Fortune

Britches and snitches
Were out digging ditches
When out from the ground did appear
 
Gold that looked old
if the truth now be told
It was something someone would hold dear
 
A crown from the town
Just a little ways down
Perhaps it belonged to the king
 
With tools they found jewels
And these two were no fools
As they thought of the fortune it’d bring
 
They tried and they pried
Now with pressure applied
To remove the prize up from the land
 
A dream it would seem
As they worked as a team
So that wealth could then rest in their hand
 
A tug and a shrug
In the place that they dug
But the artifact still wasn’t free
 
A shove with a glove
The sun hot up above
Now a bundle of sweat they would be
 
Inspired but tired
Their strength now expired
They tossed down their shovel and hoe
 
Glad but not sad
And in no way now mad
They decided to let the thing go
 
A prize for the eyes
As they now realize
All the trouble this fortune might send
 
Greed they don’t need
As the two did concede
That their fortune was having a friend

Simon Says

Poems spring forth like the season
All these politicians guilty of treason
The trees would grow if we let them
Vaccine-ready, set, inject him
Birds and squirrels doing their job
Life on Gaia why so hard
Man has made a conscious decision to toil
Insanity he has chosen to poison the soil
The very fabric of our existence
Elite get maid when we show resistance
That also goes for the misinformed
Quarantined at home watching ****
Simon says sit your ass down
Your face best get rid of that frown
Paying snitches to surveil the hood
You know HR 6666 is no good
Master Trump can I please go to work
Broke as hell going berserk
Locking down those that won't shelter in place
Knowledge of the truth I continue to chase
Why is my vision different than most
Truth revealed at the Presidential Roast
Driving way out of my lane
The whole damn world gone insane
Dang is it them or is it me
Changing perceptions of what I see
Don't forget we write our own story
My God this chapter is gore

#rightnowrevelation; rightnowrevelation.com
Elluntate Bell

A Rhyming Raw

I'm a mistress 
Not your btches
Not your witchy washy witches
I'm a mistress 
Not your btches
not your sluttish crazy fishes.
I'm a mistress 
Not your btches
not your whory favorite snitches
I'm a mistress
Not your btches
Not your so call sniffing btches.
I'm a mistress
Not your btches
Not you crazy wiffy btches (not referring to real marriage).
I'm a mistress 
Not your btches
Not your crackhead crazy btches.
I'm a mistress
Not your btches
Not your ghetto corner btches
For I am a mistress and your nothing to me.

Do Not Generalize All Black Cats

Are you a Halloween cat? I queried the preening feline.
Don’t generalize all black cats she said with a sniff and a whine.
I was shocked because surely she knew about the teeny witches.
Who were holding up her ears on broomsticks with snitches.

But I thought, I began to say, apologizing for stereotyping.
She began to laugh then, saying “I was only snipping.”
I was not laughing though, for I did not know her at all.
Of course, I will certainly avoid her when I see her next fall.

Sun Day

The sabbath day is not for snitches
Its just a day to scratch your itches
Go have some fun
Take in some sun
And enjoy Mother Nature's riches!

Dunderhead

So I drove the van down a walking trail,
and slid into a ditch.
The Officers with voices hale
Began the walkers to regale
With "Oh, no, he won't go to jail!"

My van was tilt at such a pitch,
We had to call a wrecker in!
No doubt they thought it quite a stitch
To think that I had scratched an itch
And missed the road, preferred the ditch.

But we backed the van back up the walking trail
-- I have to ask, 'who was the snitch'? --
Who told the cops, all breathless, stale
That I was blocking up the trail
And underlined my epic fail!

So, I've near reached the end of my tragic tale.
I pity the fool who scratches an itch,
And ends up half under an old hay-bale
And causes old biddies and snitches to wail,
...NEVER drive down a walking trail!

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