John meacham pt2

I'm focused I'm focused I'm focused its like I'm John meacham. I'm authoring like I'm John meacham . I think I'm big John ,I think I'm big meacham. I turn the pages, for all the ages , becky had straight A's . she got molly's. now them titties dolly's, nip and tuck probables cosmetologies. nippiles that might fetty wop, your left eye .weed to get tha right eye high , this red hooked, big books .shooting enough to make NAS a shook one . drop that mic cross the bridge and go back home . to brave heart back to the ither , or the Illinois, from the illmatic. wild writing for boys from my hoods never been but always say I'm good and Gucci, like Susan for the lucci falling from the sky , camped lo body. geechee like Dan uptown on a Saturday night I get extra like strodinary my dominance firminance, my firm hands got the game by the neck. no bottle necks. just throgs necks chiffon laced , bout that bass . like Aaron judge on the case . I Yankees doodle dandy .doo doo rappers can't get over or understand me .they still might grammy. my mic don't stand for me ., it grand stand and hand stand for me. canto see lord byron's legendary and too bookoo anti trump don Juan a uncommon want. I want all the money and fame that comes with running the board encores , and blondes who surf dick , like all aboard. my broadstrokes different pokes , mr Drummond , manny fresh , sticks just drumming and drummer..weed smoked , feeling dope. new Hope's for folks in hick town get this dick down , your throat. like its murder. jaruling, bar schooling like I'm schooly Dee .fries come with the aqua. shake .the meatballs are free from the big willy , the wind up and the pitch, the greatest hits. over Allstate's mother may i mayhem and wind up in a ditch. I think I'm John meacham I think I'm big John I think I'm big meacham. five god speeds .in a hour of rushing for your knees , Russian dressing , name brands for lessons no messiah just this mess. now let's get higher. more desire mo fire until I get ready or tired . I get up just for different strokes . broads love my old baby face , the gun in my waist , like I came shoot up the place, ace hood , lord BEE gooder than good in everyman's hoods . strong circumstances , we don't give a what. about who or what you fuck timbs nubuck, stomp until I blow up. all ages turn to me for them . pages. and essays in low riders .and high socks . red ,black or white Sox. and locex out papers keep me strong when I manicure .my shit remains pure .I could piss on a track. and get a thousand likes for that .the realist , is on a black list . I do hard covers and soft backs .my focus back , the duffel bags packed .between the cheeks of a pole freak. motor boating tear drop tities. this hear lake eerie. drown outs you hear me .like the house of Payne dead bodies floating in on the tide again .. I think I'm big John meacham.