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Latest 5 Poems of Michael Mcgowan

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    Michael Mcgowan's last comments on poems and poets

    • POEM: The Times Table by Robert Lee Frost (10/19/2009 7:42:00 PM)

      pinny pinny pinny pinny pinny

    • POEM: Not To Keep by Robert Lee Frost (10/13/2009 9:03:00 PM)

      Party and Bullshit

      was a terror since the public school era
      Bathroom passes, cuttin classes, squeezing asses
      Smoking blunts was a daily routine
      Since thirteen, a chubby nigga on the scene
      I used to have the tre` duce
      And the deuce deuce in my bubblegoose
      Now i got a mac in my knapsack
      Loungin' black, smoking sacks up in acts
      And sidekicks with my sidekicks rockin fly kicks
      Honeys want to chat
      But all we wanna know is 'Where the party at? '
      And can i bring my gat?
      If not, I hope I don't get shot
      But i throw my vest on my chest
      'Cause niggaz is a mess
      It don't take nothin' but frontin'
      For me to start somethin'
      Buggin' and barkin' at niggaz like i was duck huntin'
      Dumbing out, just me and my crew
      Cause all we wanna do is...

      Party... And bullshit, and... (x9)

      Hugs from the honeys, Pounds from the roughnecks
      Seen my man Sei that I knew from the projects
      Said he had beef, asked me if I had my peice
      Sure do, two.22's in my shoes
      Holler if you need me love i'm in the house
      Roam and strollin' see what the honeys is about
      Moet popping, hoe hopping, ain't no stopping Big Poppa, I'm a BAD BOY
      Niggaz wanna front, who got your back? (BIGGIE!)
      Niggaz wanna flex, who got the gat? (BIGGIE!)
      It ain't hard to tell I'm the east coast overdoser
      Nigga you scared you're supposed to
      Nigga I toast ya, put fear in your heart
      Fuck up the party before it even start
      Pissy drunk, off the Henny and skunk
      Or some brand-nubian shit beatin' down punks!


      Bitches in the back looking righteous
      In a tight dress, i think i might just
      Hit her with a little Biggie 101, How to tote a gun
      And have fun with Jamaican rum
      Conversations, blunts in rotation
      My man Big Jacques got the glock in his waist and
      we're smoking, drinking, got the hooker thinking
      If money smell bad than this nigga Biggie stinking
      Is it my charm? I got the hookers eatin out my palm
      She grabbed my arm and said 'Let's leave calm'
      I'm hittin' skins again
      Rolled up another blunt, bought a Heineken
      Niggaz start to loke out, a kid got choked out
      Blows was thrown and a fucking fight broke out

      [Music stops, indecipherable sounds of people yelling and arguing,
      Biggie breaks it up yelling 'Yo chill, man, chill! ']

      Can't we just all get along?
      So i can put hickies on her chest like Li'l Shawn
      Get her pissy drunk off of Don Perrignon
      And it's on, and I'm gone
      that's that.

      [Chorus w/ Puff talking after selected lines]

      Party... and Bullshit, (Party.)
      and Party... and Bullshit, (Bullshit.)
      and Party... and Bullshit, (Party.)
      and Party... and Bullshit, (Bullshit.)
      and Party... and Bullshit, (Yea... Junior Mafia likes that.)
      and Party... and Bullshit,
      and Party... and Bullshit, (Uptown likes that.)
      and Party... and Bullshit,
      and Party... and Bullshit, (Bad Boy likes that.)
      and Party... and Bullshit,
      and Party... and Bullshit, (Brooklyn Crew likes that.)
      and Party... and Bullshit,
      and Party... and Bullshit, (Third Eye likes that.)
      and Party... and Bullshit,
      [Repeats until fade out]

    • POEM: Need Of Being Versed In Country Things, The by Robert Lee Frost (10/13/2009 9:01:00 PM)

      Gettin' Jiggy Wit It lyrics

      Bring it.Whoo! Unh, unh, unh, unhHoo cah cahHah hah, hah hah[mimicking bass line] Bicka bicka bow bow bow, bicka bow bow bump bumpWhat, what, what, whatHah hah hah hahUnh, on your mark ready set let's godance floor pro I know you knowI go psycho when my new joint hitjust can't sitgotta get jiggy wit itooh that's itnow honey honey come rideDKNY all up in my eyeyou gotta Prada bag with alotta stuff in itgive it to your friend let's spineverybody lookin' at meglancin' the kidwishin' they was dancin' a jighere with this handsome kidciga-cigar right from Cuba-CubaI just bite itit's for the look I don't light itillway the an-may on the ance-day oor-flaygivin' up jiggy make it feel like foreplayyo my car-dee-o is Infinit-ha haBig Willie Style's all in itGettin' Jiggy Wit ItChorus: na na na na na na na nanana na na na nanagettin jiggy wit itrepeat 3xwhat you wanna ball with the kidwatch your step you might falltrying to do what I didmama-unh mama-unh mama come closerin the middle of the club with the rub-a-dub, unhno love for the haters, the hatersmad cause I got floor seats at the Lakerssee me on the fifty yard line with the Raidersmet Ali he told me I'm the greatestI got the fever for the flavor of a crowd pleaserDJ play anotherfrom the prince of thisyour highnessonly mad chicks ride in my whipssouth to the west to the east to the northbought my hits and watch 'em go off a go offah yes yes y'all ya don't stopin the winter or the (summertime) I makes it hotgettin jiggy wit 'emChoruseight-fifty I.S. if you need a liftwho's the kid in the dropwho else Will Smithlivin' that life some consider a mythrock from south street to one two fifthwomen used to tease megive it to me now nice and easysince I moved up like George and Wheezycream to the maximum I be askin' 'emwould you like to bounce with the brother that's platinumnever see Will attackin' 'emrather play ball with Shaq and um, flatten 'empsychekiddin'you thought I took a spillbut I didn'ttrust the lady of my life she hittin'hit her with a dropp top with the ribboncrib for my mom on the outskirts of Phillyyou trying to flex on medon't be sillygetting jiggy wit itChorus

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