iam... thebeatpoet

how do you do

how do you how do you do? How do you how do you do? do you.
How do you how do you do? How do you how do you how to you. 

strum a ton of pun for fun alumni of unconscious one numb state of delirium is why my flow is never done one loan son I be a loaner I am born to be commissioned by the powers that be to set sad debts free lending tax free positivity abominate hate chuckle delegate administrate acetate to edumacate orate alliterate to obliterate a depressed state when it comes to court I am a social retort consider me a conundrum of sort serving ill platters on wheels of steel I should be sponsored by happy meal

how do you how do you do? How do you how do you do? do you.
How do you how do you do? How do you how do you how to you.

advocate life as a high schooler orchestrate a circle with a ruler I have a painted soul warming the cold beat story told upholding the bold dj wool will mold whats sold to bestow a show that wont erode ride the road that’s been dolled keroauc toad increasing load every pond polled my water runs deep but got many an oar the reason iam name abbreviator is to afford the hoard a new accord time to be you own dam lord end the shred find a med soothe your head from the dread of seeing red when pulp friction is how you tread remember zeds dead baby zeds dead 

how do you how do you do? How do you how do you do? do you.
How do you how do you do? How do you how do you how to you.

shimmy shimmy bop I am like a top when I wiggle a drop I never can stop if you are looking for some pop I suggest a barley or hop you know I really love to snap but grabbing a pulse is where its at watch out world I am on attack bringing trax on wax to plaques are stacked speak this dung from cheek to tongue to once its sung we all can grab a new rung once burned I have learned to pull rank on dank that’s rank life does not spare fools fueled by an unfull tank my glass is half empty only when I drunk half my drank

how do you how do you do? How do you how do you do? do you.
How do you how do you do? How do you how do you how to you.

burning bush

Once upon a time two friends puffing kind. A burning bush and bboy high out of their mind. Together they would play a bong game called zonk. Together they got wasted smoking all the bushes skunk. Bboy picked the buds rolled many a phatty. Bboy would get wakt making the bush so happy. But bboy flipped tripped and had to fade. Peacing all out in the bushes shade. Then bboy bounced never did phone. Much time went by the bush was all alone.  But one day the bboy showed up. The bush was so down to spark one up. “Yo pick my buds pack a phatty. If you’re looking for dank who’s your daddy?” I am not trying to pull bong hits just to getting fucked up and feeling like a ditz.  “lets play a game of zonk have yu pass out in a funk from smoking all my skunk.” No, yo I need the dough so I can roll in phatty new ride and scream rawhide.  Can you hook me up some green and the ism isn’t what I mean. “I got no cheese for you to flex steeze. all I got is that chronic so take my bubonic. Sell dimes on the beat avoid that heat then you’ll be joyriding in that street.”

The bboy love the bush. The bush loved the bboy. Everything was sensifeelya.

But the bboy stayed away for mad long and the bush was really bummed out. Then one day the bboy came back and the bush was so pysched to smoke out. “Whats up poppy I heard you dropped me. Let us meditate on the herbal philosophy.” Hate to be a bore but I don’t smoke no more. I got to tell you its more like a chore. I need to try a new type of hizzy this type of stuff don’t make me dizzy. bush let out a sigh he began to cry. he wanted so bad to get high with her favorite lil guy. “you know how i do looking out for my crew. So this is what you got to do. take my leaves and my seeds make brownies with them please.”  word! digesting your herb would make me feel superb putting that serve back in my swerve!

The bboy loved the bush. The bush loved the bboy. Everything was sensifeelya. 

but the bboy stayed away for decades and the burning bush was sad. but one day the bboy came back and the bush was mad glad. “Goddam I missed you so bad. All I think was those times we once had.” Oh yes those times were great. The pot you got was totally totally totally first rate. bush reminisced and wanted to burn. bush was so happy to see the bboy return. I sure wish i could twist up a spliff but last time you were here you smoked all my shit.” Iam to old to playing the weed game. Is there anything you can do for my back pain? “I’ve given you everything I had to my name but if you take my body you can make yourself a cane.” The old bboy cried as he cut the stalk carving himself a dope stick to walk. I love you bush you know what I am saying. “Sensifeelya, thank you for playing. Now lets grab a bud and twist up a joint. the herbs that I produce are still on point?” Hey now wait a sec. Why did you lie? A minute ago you said you were bud dry. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell the whole truth. I always got buds so we can go poof.” All right roll it up let it fly it’s been mad long since I gotten dumb high.

bush did exactly that rolled up a cone suppa duppa fat. two old friends got freaking tweaked puffin out. And just like old times peaced the fuck out. 

that’s what shel was talking about.