taste of my vomit
(for all the hustlers)

as an ordained scribe with a million words as my target
i crossed boundaries jotted a million another two million
plotted to write another million as exclusive poems
that won't be read until i'm gone to complete my legend
'ven if i die now i know i left a mark in this world
google search results shock my enemies they choke in they hate
buried in they toilets to conceal the funeral of a loser
'hossana, hossana' getting played from a TDK tape
to hide the shame of families that hide the face of failure

wrote breaking news chased exclusives 'til i became a frontpage
my smile frozen below a HEADLINE politicians want my hug
celebrity journalist made poet now chasing awards
journey with me the introduction of a heartless hustler
2nd invitation all my people come get a taste of my vomit
sistas come taste some nectar juice from a crisp penis
though i do it behind a vest the closest you'll come to my seed
brothas the only gift that i offer is a spliff that i rolled
plus a sip of red wine it symbolises my blood
unlike the blood of jesus christ mine contains alcohol
forever a soldier to this struggle i stayed true to the brigade

to the very end a muthafucka got no plan of dying
harvested my sweat opened an account stashed my stress in a vault
my name ain't richie, i'm a certified hustler, call me baller if you shook
my secret is i stayed loyal to this grind like a god
'ven when my kaffirs chased pussy i stayed locked in my room
only leaving to chase cash across the whole 9 yards
past mini skirts silky thighs & the legend of kanga
even when my life was at risk
i still took the best pix
to finally make it to the epitome the summit of mount golgotha

suicide we ride
(title from katise mashego)

all stressing is the life we living
when carbon monoxide is the conduit to meet the devil
windows shut all alone I relished the smell
closed my eyes said goodbye to the wicked world
said goodbye to the fame & the midnight oil
left a note just incase they started wondering why
like the day I had a pistol & the safety catch off
single chrome in the chamber & the hammer intact
suicide note on the table to help solve the mystery
z88 on my dome to put to rest the mystery
when enigma woke up dead I said "fuck the living"
life was my stress a single shot could put a stop to my living
born with less I wanted help tranquilizers scared me
needed peace of mind @ night something to silence the voices
something stronger than paracetamol to finally cure my back pain
knew I hated tranquilizers for I couldn't be gnome
so I woke up one morning gave marijuana a ring
thanks to the power of the herb can talk to you today
I gained a voice & a friend put an end to my antsy

post your comments @; goodynuff@thepub.co.za

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