This is for the woman who has more morals than me
She knows who she be,
She ain’t met a mind like mine before,
She tells me ‘wanna bet’,
But yet, the way I talk makes her wet,
She treats me mean to keep me keen,
it works,
Believe me this woman is intimidating,
a descendant of Aphrodite herself
beauty is her wealth, and boy is she rich,
I’d split the bitches cunt
Back to front
That’s just me being vulgar, blunt

It runs in the family
hereditary,
I’d mark your place like a dog marking territory,
My eyes masturbate over you
predatory

I smell your body odor, honey
let me stuff your Calvins full of money
Timid autumn skinned bunny,
I wanna see those legs in silk, flex,
hair tied back, horn rimmed specks
Damn!

I’d write this poem for you in blood
believe me when I say I would,
just let me know when it’s the time of the month.


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