Secondly

[mayniuhh]

coast when I might die...

along a seastar-studded outline
everybody repping "theirs",
sure as a beach.
But, "real"
lost her fake deal
("pure" is the heat)
pour
peace until we disagree?
just like any other war?
pour a pint of cud
screaming “save my lie”
why ermine or thuds bore
like a stab in the back?
they say my diamond rough,
they say it’s all about the chips…

then they feel depreciated
when a nigga dip.
my black bean distill
& inguishes the shit…