Me and my imaginary posse of alter-egos
patrol streets with lips closed
and desert eagles
as self-concealed weapons
we communicate silently,
on passin possesions
heads jerk violently
unsurprisingly, a chorus of wows,
the narcissist is pissed, and shouts
"she should be adorning me with smiles!!!"
the insecure in me advises "forget purity,"
she's got legs for miles...
"You got the cooties" sings my inner child
meanwhile my left brain mang freestyles
now, my inner priest prays to release
the sinner's lustful beasts
now the pessismist is even torn
head twist like the exorcist
i grow a demon's horn
and then... a pimp was born...
so i step, pessimist picks a porn
hard to keep my eyes off her chest
my romantic's frantic
"did u see those thighs and breasts!"
calmly speak "are u stressed
by the burden of being blessed?"
..."yes?"...
"well, im usually shy,
but when u just
walked by
i was... possessed"