Bitch, I’m a poet.
Writing through your hood
Spraying truth on walls.
I aint playin’ games;
I make them.
Pull up on you with some wisdom
Planting logic in your head.
Ain’t gotta tell me twice
Roll the dice, check my ice,
Summer sweets, I’m lookin’ real nice.
Poshmark on my mouth.
Gold chain swangin’ from the neck.
Cause I know they wanna catch me.
Watch me hustle in the books,
*Dang, I haven’t written in a while and this feels so damn good…*