Tuesday, April 13, 2010

your mind wears it
don't button your lip

killers don't get heard about
they get whispered about
before you get murdered, ouch 

poets and gangsters
spend stacks of paper, fingers
riding those triggers of theirs

i know what a g is
because it is
a letter

this hood got choppers, so
don't fuck with the turf
simple as that

we all scoop gold 
by the skirtful and try to
die without remorse

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