Rap
Every time I hear a bottle pop,I chase it down and drop it like its hot,
Then I turn around no I'd rather not,
Oh go go oh no you better stop,
Better not run from the cops.
Now I see this girl walking bye,
Makes me feel so good I think I'm high,
I'm way to busy living just to die,
I can't wait to look her in the eyes,
And run my hands up her thighs.
Sitting with a smoke in my mouth,
Laid back like I'm on a cloud,
All the angels call me dirty south,
When they see me horns blow loud,
Next thing I know I'm passed out.
I wake up run try to hide,
But the devils there by my side,
Oh man I think I might of died,
Well at least you can't say I didn't try,
But I'm a man I won't cry.
Poetry by Justin
Read 681 times
Written on 2008-05-17 at 19:53
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