Business Poem by chris bowen, a.k.a to wit

club licks bounce off walls
club chicks, strut through malls
im feelin the effect
we are through and you aint left yet

there aint nobody driven in the club scene
just a busted hillary duff dream
can i mean business, walk through fire
if she wins then ill retire

you can seem, a little ugly
when i write you go off
there aint nobody who you love, b
so just go play the lane of chalk, body rock

when i talk i find myself reminded
that your ponish behaviour was a lined with
obama not mccain
man, girl you seem so strange
why cant you get with the thing?

your the wrong way to go
you are you are
your the wrong way to go
you are you are
your no star, i have no foe
why are you the last to know?