Black Poetry : Rap a lots but like appricots stuff cured in the sun


Well-Known Member
May 11, 2006
Rap a lots but like appricots stuff cured in the sun
I’m matured a ton in the mind secured in rap dun
Girls are pure to eat like cure meats sweet and wet
My head trip because her red lips lured me to fret
Kissing her, may fall in love as a tall thug never forget
This moment, “Look boo you amuse my mind lets
Use time to get acquainted you’ve painted a very wet
Picture in my mind your body fixure is fine have we met?
“no” perfume a fine flavor what is behind your behavior?”
“Stay wet and free but jest let me be my coochee itch is major
Hot and sweaty but not ready for sex yet a vexed set of boys
Are waiting and anticipating on me cumming around it annoys
Me how boys be they wanna bless my treasure and express pleasure
In doing so, they wanna kiss off my lip gloss milky breasts measure
Satisfaction and sometimes a fatal attraction like Michael Douglas”
“well boo we make a swell two but my mind is twisted and love this
Online existed to hug and kiss your lips we can go to the club brisk
If you’re a rusher to be my fiance’ do like USHER AND BEYOUNCE’
Make love up in a club somewhere have a fresh affair and never raunchy
The grace of your lace wll let me replace your boyfriend and get
Wet dates for cake so be smart sweetheart got love you won’t regret”


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