I'm the mother fucking big dawg laying the big log you fuck boys only punt I make touchdowns your only good for one thing putting frowns on faces I make um smile with the way I lay it down, y'all only come around once in awhile I'm there night and day with stamina,longevity,only time they call you is when I'm on vaca, I'm her Superman I'm her reason her weakness I'm her Kryptonite, o wait I made a mistake I'm her Batman I'm hitting that cat man you're all up in her inbox I'm all up in her fur box i hit it right you come and go I hit it right day and night,I got her tied up in a knot got her knotted up like dogs we be fucking like frogs we be humping i keep her titties bouncing like two springs on a trampoline i be turning her out call it educating, y'all just punt I make touchdowns,y'all just toys I'm the real McCoy,I'm a truck call me Mac my Peter is built,smoking sour diesel ,Kenworth, blowing smoke down her throat,poet is a lyrical goat,I'm the mother fuking unsigned Superstar,y'all only punt I make touchdowns, got her touched down,bent over touching her toes,bent over from behind call me the tax man I'm taxing her from behind,I'm her quarterback call me the Play boy mister Monday night fourth and long Joe Namath calling the plays,y'all are only wanta be''s,l've got her front and center wine dined 69 you get the left overs call it a doggy bag ,i'm Mr money bags,I'm the mother fucking unsigned super star, y'all only punt I make touchdowns,I'm a south paw switching it up,don't make me laugh,don't Scratch my paint while your pumping my gas,poet's verses hit harder then a bad acid trip, flipping your script got you falling flat,paper airplane flight,Tried to clash with a titan, now it’s fright night.Got u shivering,stuttering, trying to find the locks,Michael J. Fox with the tremble, tryna pull on them socks.Spit venom, sharp tongues leave a cobra envious,Their squad so soft, Snuggie game, y’all precarious.Leave um shaking like Jerry Lee, Lewis on the keys, tremblin’, and shit
Tectonic plates crackin’, yeah, my vibe’s assembling.Wrapped in word hurricanes, spinning ‘em wild,Make their girls daydream, eyes locked, beguile.They just spectators, I’m the gladiator in Rome,Turn stage lights to stone, leave opponents alone.
Pens like missiles, hit targets precise,
Aim at poet's heartstrings, now they paying the price.Mirror their rhymes back, distorted reflection,Their lines deserted, malnourished of pure connection.Flow dirtier than gravel roads after a summer thunder,Poet’s lyrical flow delivery leave ‘em six feet under.Can’t box my cadence, my lines infinite space,They like lost letters, searched but never replaced.Girls wanna ride shotgun, windows rolled low,
Their tracks stale bread; biscuit vision risin’ fresh dough.Poet shaking um up like Polaroids developin’ slow,Dirty south anthem—this flow isn’t for show it's the real deal devine put your sunglasses on and watch this white boy shine poet's verses hit harder then a bad acid trip......
Poet419
