Black Poetry : DROPPING ILL STUFF

rhymebad

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
May 11, 2006
5,874
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DROPPING ILL STUFF

I’m a bitter thug and like a litterbur drop trash that’ll
Pop and smash microphones so I keep all my cash fat
Sincere and clever like a mere letter to a girlfriend I make
The world spin on love talk at the club walk wearing great
Bling and take things in proportion, fiddle with attitudes
Eat little food like a sick child come quick and wild with mood
Swings can’t elude bling and it’s hurting my eyes real bad
If you stand in the middle of Philly with little ability that mad
Probably be jacked for gold chains best catch the next Soul Train
Out of town no doubt a clown don’t live long here don’t complain
Hear a boss beat across the street a car CD on blast it cause ill pain
To my ear it’s LIL WAYNE I can hear clear start to bother my brain
So I bought a loli pop to lick after I remove the wrapper tastes great
Join other in a cause to put brother on pause that rap fake.
Cats try do great tricks like an escaped convict just to make
Money and survive hear a lots of funny jive on radios nowadays
Like who killed Hip Hop? Thrilled a lot just to know many prays
For a hot hero and not a zero NAZ is right somebody has to rise
Maybe from the skies with some crazy vibes to make folks realize
That a savior has come with a major sum of truth to rap about
Hard listening to bitter scrubs as some are arrest as jitterbugs onroute
To microphones so consider the thug zone in a person’s behavior
 

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