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The Come Up
Never got props in the past
His pockets weren’t fat and he was awkward with gab
Everyone thought he was daft
He got mocked and bashed
The ladies gave his cock a pass
Then he became the best at jotting raps
Those who beg for autographs
Better offer sex or lots of cash
He won’t waste a sec to drop their ass next to the copy cats

Though the poet is strange
With fans going insane decoding his slang
He has the best flow in the game
His verses can help coping with pain
Even foes give him praise
But he’s soulless from fame
Hoes got him chained
Holes in his brain from a nose of cocaine and dope in his veins
© BuddyDButtmunch