Pickin Shot's Poem by dophine boy

dophine boy

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Pickin Shot's

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Picking shot's
I am the dealer; you’re my shots for the bling thing, no mother’s milk. They don't mind were money come from, the baby mother or grandmother, mash them down for the face of thee grown I’m the dealer the scary clown, mash them down.

dophine boy

Saturday, January 19, 2013

poem poems mother Grandmother baby money

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Poems By dophine boy

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