Anacreontic Freestyle Rap Poem by Sketcher Ridpath

Oh, at last,
I'm passed it,
Those feelings,
I trashed it,
I'm leaving,
Won't last it,
She's squealing,
I smashed it,
I'm bleeding,
From blast hit,
That stuff hurt,
But I'm not done,
I ate dirt,
That wasn't fun,
Psyche, I spurt,
Out a ton,
Then it squirt,
But I'm her son,
I'm no pervert,
Now I'm done...

But I'm back,
Talking random,
I'm not black,
Yet I'm candid,
When my smack,
Becomes platinum,
There's a stack,
For the ransom,
Chill with hoodlums,
Always get caught,
That just bout' sums,
Up what happens not,
Throw stuff together,
See if it works,
If it doesn't,
Keep it in still,
Cause it makes a mark.