Memoirs of A Drug Dealer

Barbecues outside, the grill is packed

Gold chains around necks, pockets filled with stacks

The aroma of fresh hydroponic buds in blaze

Goddamn, how I miss these golden days

Speakers in the front yard, several trunks are popped

Everbody is invited to the party on the block

Take a walk through the house smell the rest of the food

Headed to the backyard where the hustlas cool

Dominoes and spades were the games at play

Distribution was so easy on a cookout day

As the midnight emerge and the neighborhood leaves

All the hustlas in the back are so ready to breath

This is the bright side of a drug dealer’s dolla

I’ll give you the horror soon, but for now, Imma holla


Artwork by Joy N. Vaughn

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