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the coochie divided.
Once a man,
always a tran.
The loss of words,
as the ♥♥♥ guzzles down your bladder,
the thought going through your head,
"this couldn't be badder".
I may be smelly,
but at least unlike R. Kelly,
I won't be sentenced,
'cus the kids are drug dependant.
A hoe in the block,
working overtime for the flock,
"how come you may ask?",
as I nod towards the valium flask.