PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

People raise ya glasses up as I propose a toast, for spittin thangs that do spit flame and grab ahold of folks,
with 2 hands open wide and poised to grab and hold ya throat, this peanut butter flow is hard to swallow; hope you choke.

I'm light years in the distance to a mental place I sit, and buggin cause my brain's been on some mental Matrix shit,
don't need a fuckin airport, close my eyes and take a trip, I hear the people talk but aint nobody sayin shit.

I gotta pay these williams so I grind to make my grip, I'm scared to break its neck so I don't try to make it flip,
nobody's gonna tell me when to piss or take a shit, I wash my words out longer so they'll have to stay and rinse.

A cunnilingual master of disaster; Mr. Creed, I'll die just like Apollo 'fore I live like Mr. T,
or hobbled in the mind cause ignorance is misery, a know-it-all that still can't read, these jigs be killin me.

My verbal halitosis makes me carry Listerine, I kiss the L with smoke rings like I'm married to this weed,
to switch it aint no wives no more just chicks who carry seeds, and try to live the lifestyle from TV and magazines.

I wish the hood would smell the coffee, not alot have learned, that once they take a sniff the fuckin coffee pot is burned,
along with all the rest of breakfast, niggas gotta learn, the government aint handin out no more, you gotta earn.

Vernacular is raw I know, I'm leavin nuthin cooked, it's just not cool to be so stupid, read a fuckin book,
what's saddest though is how some folks reject what feeds the brain, embracing empty nourishment like Weez and Lil Wayne.

The Cunning Linguist has the jewels to be forever dropped, and mothafuck my critics, T.C.L. will never stop,
administering logic, making enemies of friends, and toolin up for battle, be prepared for sweet revenge....... To Be Concluded

©2011