Sicilian Spit
09-24-07, 03:52 AM
Haven't written in a while but I'ma give it a go
If ya life aint got purpose what you livin it fo'?
My name wont be worthless, I'm a live in the Sco
And relish expensive purses that I'm givin my ho
Itchin to sit on my throne, reclaim the scritch that I've blown
And get one more night wit every b*tch that I've owned
But let me switch to my home, I'm so efficient at flowin
Change the subject matter, never leave a glitch in my poem
I wanna marry my girl, I wanna carry her world
On my shoulders, give her round-go-merry a twirl
I mean her merry-go-round, she'll never fall to the ground
She dizzy, but I got her and my guidance is sound
Now move ya lighters around, my insight is profound
Predict my future and through my writing expound
On the path I've laid out for myself and my kin
Once class is played out then my wealth'll begin
Wit a nine-to-five, not gettin signed to Jive
Cant advertise me even though my rhymes is live
So I'ma settle down, have a son and make some ends
Mettle round in my company and make some friends
In high places, but never forsake my mens
Cuz they'll be there even when my cake is spent
Make pretend? I'ma be at the World Series
My girl teary eyed, she don't have to be weary
Of me not reachin my peak, instead of preachin I speak
And when its over sleep on 7 different beaches a week
People beseech me to speak, on stage at ceremonies
Rock the mic briefly then page a pair of homies
To come scrape me up, roll the grape weed up
Then raise three cups and toast to my amazing luck
I wrote this like probably a year ago after a long drought in terms of writing. Thinkin a lot bout the future I guess. O, to make one of the lines clearer, I'm tryin to become a sportscaster one of these days.
If ya life aint got purpose what you livin it fo'?
My name wont be worthless, I'm a live in the Sco
And relish expensive purses that I'm givin my ho
Itchin to sit on my throne, reclaim the scritch that I've blown
And get one more night wit every b*tch that I've owned
But let me switch to my home, I'm so efficient at flowin
Change the subject matter, never leave a glitch in my poem
I wanna marry my girl, I wanna carry her world
On my shoulders, give her round-go-merry a twirl
I mean her merry-go-round, she'll never fall to the ground
She dizzy, but I got her and my guidance is sound
Now move ya lighters around, my insight is profound
Predict my future and through my writing expound
On the path I've laid out for myself and my kin
Once class is played out then my wealth'll begin
Wit a nine-to-five, not gettin signed to Jive
Cant advertise me even though my rhymes is live
So I'ma settle down, have a son and make some ends
Mettle round in my company and make some friends
In high places, but never forsake my mens
Cuz they'll be there even when my cake is spent
Make pretend? I'ma be at the World Series
My girl teary eyed, she don't have to be weary
Of me not reachin my peak, instead of preachin I speak
And when its over sleep on 7 different beaches a week
People beseech me to speak, on stage at ceremonies
Rock the mic briefly then page a pair of homies
To come scrape me up, roll the grape weed up
Then raise three cups and toast to my amazing luck
I wrote this like probably a year ago after a long drought in terms of writing. Thinkin a lot bout the future I guess. O, to make one of the lines clearer, I'm tryin to become a sportscaster one of these days.