PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I am filthy rotten 

One of God's forgotten 

In the corner pissed off 

Just constant plotting

There ain't no stopping

I'm coming for green 

They done paid Bret Hart son

I'm gunning your team

I'm running these fiends

Keep the hood poppin Like it's 88

Lines are dope 

Best believe I'm gonna run them straight

So you can snort them 

Right up ya Damn wind pipe

And recognize 

That the boy Peace been nice 

The right price will get ya high son 

Best believe 

You want that raw 

Guaranteed I got what ya need

So get at me 

When ya ready for a fucking hit

I got some shit

Make you switch who ya fucking with

I got that China white 

Pure and uncut

Call it Jesus mama

Ain't never been touched

Style so dope 

That I'll sell it by the fuckin gram

Pay attention 

And understand what I am

I'm that fire

That's burning up ya fuckin block 

To hot to handle baby 

Just call me crack rock