Nobody understand the poetic man from the south Guess I demand attention spans equal to miles of gold in the mouth Never get it tho bars subpar without a ho Sooner or later the slave nature a take over the fame so Where the pain grows and lame sews I obtain notes and refrain dope At the drop of a hat I spat Like rats of repeating the blast of a gat Rhythm of a bat flappin them jaws stuck on the black Forreal
Posted on: Thu, 13 Jun 2013 17:54:42 +0000