Poet's Poems

Cigarettes (from Episode 1)

I coulda sworn I seen the mothafucka in my cell
Goin' through my personal effects
He fingers, fingerin' my cigarettes
Came out like nothin' was was happenin', whistlin' he tune
So I mooshed his ass like,"Move, mothafucka, make room. Hey, ain't that my cigarette hangin' off the tip of yo lip?!"
I ain't even give him a chance for he confession, just leveled his ass with all that aggression
Lefts, rights to the dolex
Ha ha ha
Foots to the chest, uppercuts to the grill
I'm like "KILL", he's like "CHILL"!!
Take that for me even bein' in this place
Take that for that fuckin' C.O. baton across my face
Feel that for that lawyer who ain't give two fucks about me
Feel this for me bein' enslaved by poverty
Gimme them damn cigarettes
Oh, these is Marlboros, I don't smoke these.

Titties (from Episode 6)

Come On Son
Lemme Squeeze Them Titties
Man, What?
Come On, Yo
I been fiendin' for this freedom
I been beggin' for the be out
I been chosen for the jump over the wall
But all I keep comin' back to is them titties
Round and Firm
For the vein burn
I keep buggin' over the reasons for this shit I yearn
Years in this piece got me wanting the shit that I unlearn
Got me wanting to block it out
Forget about
Erase it from my think.

Kidnap The President's Wife (from Episode 7)

Kidnap The President's Wife Without A Plan
Kidnap The President's Wife Without A Plan
Yeah, I got a plan
It's etched with a knife in the center of my hand
So I guess I'm gonna have to keep my fist clenched
Walk around D.C. in the rain till my wares is drenched
Wait for that mothafucka to take out the garbage and do a press conference about what great shape this country's in and when them welfare cuts is gonna begin
And when he pat his dog and kiss his wife goodbye, that's when I move in
I throw that silly hoe in a headlock
I muffle her grill so her screams stop
I whisper to her,"Your man ain't here to protect you, baby. He gone."
I dial up my nigga Old North
Tell him,"Meet me with the caddy on the white lawn."
I tossed her in the backseat
I covered her head with a black sheet
Put the steel to her grill piece
Be like,"If you don't shut up, I'm gonna let two shots in your dome piece."
Watch her have fits
If she don't understand, I'm gonna give the quick lesson in ebonics
"I'm gonna shoot you, baby."
I take her to my hideout in the low income houses down the street
I replace her Jones & Davids with Purple Reeboks on her feet
I give her four hungry kids, no job, no ambition, no family support, and a last welfare check
I give her crappy-ass Medicade and an ill type of growth growing out the side of her neck
I tell her,"Fend for yourself, keep you and them shorties in proper health."
And after sufficient time on that hype
I introduce her to the crackpipe
I let her feel its soothing effects as she tries to forget about the absence of them checks
I make her sell her jewels for it
I make her pay her dues for it
And then I'll come to her late at night
And I'll be like, "Yo, everything ain't gonna be alright, you ain't gonna be able to go quietly in that good night. Peace ain't come till your death be done."
And then I'll lead her up to the roof
And I'll show her all the shit she don't own
I lead her over to the edge
And leave her there all alone.