Sick Wit It Poem by sonic cronic

i come sick wit it
spittin sh#t u aint heard of
like fu#k the military
the government
fu#kin can surves us
i swerve up, in a caddy
on datens haters be haten
fu#k heaven, we roll wit satin
we be blazen, indo roll up the window
your lettin smoke out
i aint done till im choked out
blow out a fat hit go get dro now
i blow out ya chest so dont test
dont temp me unload clips till there empty
take your woman im a pimp g
that right im pimpin
pistol whippin, dippin, an sipin liqour
fu#kin with me u die quicker