tre pound in his waist//
couldnt escape the feeelin expressed in his face//
as crept in the place//
the block was hot like cakes with high stakes//
he was on his coffee grind so he had to stay awake//
though it was hella late, he stopped to think what would they think at his wake//
if he couldnt escape what was about to happen//
unfolded the napkin and glanced at the adress//
his heart, which was at a rest, started to raise, but i degress//
he felt Brave w/ a baseball bat and a gat. he was fully strapped//
like seat belts ready for the car jack//
plus though to himself "they aint got shyt on me,//
been pushin weight since 88 like git off me"//
but back to the story, he saw three of em guarding the entrance//
pulled out the tre pound and laid tre down in an instance//
he didn't even care who saw//
like unsafe sex: he was bustin all raw//
he had no escape route case he needed to scape out//
he totally blanked out and when he pulled the tre out//
not thinkin he moved on like past relations//
entered the room and caught off guard four jamaicans//
he blasted the blood-clots homeboi//
and straight splatered blood on his homeboi//
hand still on the chrome boi, he turned around and moaned boi//
"this is watchu git for runnin up in my home, boi''//
... this is to be continued... thts right.. its a freestyle... tha ******** u want for free? ********
Hip Hop's HaveN
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