When Ed became mentally fatigued.
He would drink some Budweiser Beer and smoke some weed.
He would eat a bowl of grits.
Or taste some of his girlfriend's kissing spit.
Sometimes he would just take a nap.
Dreaming that he was at the club.
Giving all the pretty honies some good rap.
And taking from no one any crap.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem