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sea shells
out here
having fun
by the peer
twisting my dreads
up in a bun
sober no beer
on the ocean
laid out in the sun
holding on to
a weekly grand
writing poetry
in the sand, until
the tides roll in
washing my words away
only God knows
what I had to say
with my pen
my enemies were
moving in, so I
had to slay
someone had to pay
one by one they fell
at my feet, I kicked 'em
in the head, to see
if they were dead
took some time
to cover up the crime
true confession
neva lying, it would be
safer to put your hand
in the mouth of a lion
then to touch my mane
