Metroman's gold cup
static tics
sickening
galore type
of flow raining
down on spiritual
ho's in outerspace
and bitches crying
on the floor for
new gifts from
the supreme
being itself
me i flex
don't fuck
up my masters day
and when you do
i will make your
brain a bit warmer
a membrane cat
not to be messed with
a ultralight champion
also known as
blax the realest
fill shower callings
woody pusslicker
Reacties op dit gedicht
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: David de Vreer |  
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| Gecontroleerd door: michris | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 27 juli 2016 | ||
| Thema's: | ||