Just anoth'a day in the 530
system dirty
tripp'n off that cronic
high as'a comet smash'n to the earth
on the turf of'a smurf.
Dont need a 45
to survive,
my cuddys mobb deep
and we're on the rise
and its no F'n surprise
sport'n red and blue without no disquise.
Rage'n Curtis
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/530/
