Hip-Hop Poetry - 'Slow Jam'

This is my slow jam, picture a nice comfy beat - crammed, i got so much respect they call me street man,
you blow so much hot air, heat fan, my feet span over any obstacle, no need for violence just get philosophical,
until you play with my money, frown face, trust that it won't be funny or your face i will be punting,
leggings got thighs wrapped up like a mummy, then i get in real tight with her mommy, tambien,
work you till you sleep, ambien, im so sick call an am-bu-lance, she jump up on me and show the pole dance,
the type of gal that make you take a second glance, working in a rhythm, trance, no pants, no hands, plus your friend,
that makes three, golly, MDMA, molly, but not for me, got the girls waiting in line, trolly, and the police ain't never caught me,
all i learned is what the streets taught me, war is costly, peace is hipocracy, a few businesses run all of America, Monopoly,
where can I stop and collect Go? it's theQuestion, and you know I am intellectual, check my rhymes every day, ritual for my soul will
forever live on, spiritual.

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