dophine boy

Pickin Shot's - Poem by dophine boy

Picking shot's
I am the dealer; you’re my shots for the bling thing, no mother’s milk. They don't mind were money come from, the baby mother or grandmother, mash them down for the face of thee grown I’m the dealer the scary clown, mash them down.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 19, 2013

Poem Edited: Wednesday, April 24, 2013

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