Saturday, September 5, 2015

Parents bred Hater's Bread


You call me imposter,
I still made roster,
It’s apparent,
you raised by foster parents
drunk on Foster’s.

Down under, your confidence, a blunder,
two parents, yet still asunder.

Your girl took you out like Plaxico, shot your thigh and made your knees-hurt.
My girl don’t need a license for her gun - water gun - oh yeah, she-squirts.

-DeBarros

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