Punch DruNk 
in 

syllable havoc.. 

Counting cutters
and their 

woes
of 
tragic.. 

I  

sense sorrow 
and 
sensual sound.. 

Babies 
bred by 

crack 
head 
hounds.. 

I

long to feed them
twisted verse
before your treason
bleeds their worth.. 

As an "Elitist"
scum

I  

crave to cum 

in the mouths
without 
a 

Philosophical curse.. 

But I must 

wait in line
stand behind 
the  

Crowd of cons..
A.K.A.

"Prenatal Johns"
that  

here by solemely swear  
royalty 
comes impaired 

prepared with  

sticky notes
groupie votes
and 
 NO class "quotes" 

So 
before I close 
these  

tasteless prose 

I  

toast to those..     

Pre 

Diss 

Posed.