bittersweet

This morning I found out that my wife was not going to have twins; we were expecting twins since the first Dr. visit. She is about five months along now. One of the babies died at about 3 and ½ months. The one that is there is a healthy boy. I am torn between joy and excitement for a new son, and sadness for the loss. Don’t know if the other one was a boy or girl; it has to stay until the boy is born. As morbid as it sounds, it would be too risky to attempt to remove it. I feel for my dear wife, although she is in good spirits.

At this moment I’m gone off the green and alcohol,
I’m feel’in kinda numb and I wanna tell all yall
that, Supa gone be alright,
one day at a time, but I’ma get throwed tonight.
It’s about leventhirty and I’m sipp’in on some brown liquor,
contemplating on roll’in next cigarillo a bit thicker
than the last one, in fact it was the second one of the day,
I gotta say
it aint that good good that them rappers like to sing about,
but this shit here shoenuff got the Supa stout.
So keep us in your prayers if you know what I’m talk’in bout
And holla at your boy and let know about the burn out…

Sade made me think it

I was listening to Sade earlier tonight and something came to me...Wanna hear it here it goes:

if you were mine…bitch if you were mine…i wouldn’t have to go…out at night…
i cherish your beauty...and you got a big booty...when i see you pump'in gass...i gotta stop, and admire that ass...
i cherish your big mouth...big as the whole SOUTH...when we alone at your house...you put it on me and i cum like the mail...
it don't rhym but what the hell...my joint get's hard from the smell,
of your perfume...
or is it your cat mixed and the cronic???
either way i go bionic, then i blend that pussy like them shakes from Sonic...
i keep you open 'til midnight, but most often later...
that tat on your back reads "Supa Dupa, there ain't non greater..."
tell yo girl don't be a hater...i got enough to go around...i'll holla at her later...
and put it on her like a tripple fat goose in the middle of a snow storm...
my joint is feel'in right, cause little momma's throat warm

Word to Bun

Some of my sweets are tight and some are kinda fucked-up
But they all blow like wind, so killa flowers burn up...

From the Heart

I used to be a player with no game
Now, I’m a star with no fame
But it’s all good cause sometimes fame can turn a nigga lame

I used to want the world to know about me
That would be cool but really I just want the currency
Now I got seeds so I’m trying to build a legacy

Me and my queen got two with two more on the way
Twins equals two of everything from diapers to a place to lay
Stack’in paper is on my mind each and every fuck’in day

I gotta bring out the greatness that’s inside of me
It makes me sick to think of where I’m supposed to be
And I’m not there yet but time ain’t wait’in around to see

I’m no hater but it’s hard to see others ride’in high
When me and mine are just barely fuck'in get’in by
But then it pushes me to make it so we all can fly

I’m make’in myself step outside my comfort zone
Gotta flip the script if not money will always be gone
SupaDupa's on the chase and I won't stop till I bring it home

Make'in Paper

“Peace Vieho…”
“My man shorty, what up young blood…what brings you over to these parts so early in the morn’in? Ain't you supposta be in school?”
“Fuck that shit, I'm try’in to make some paper. Momma short on rent again.”
“I hear you, so what you work’in wid?”
“Old dude around the way got O’s for four…”
“Four an O huu?”
“That’s what he said. I was think’in that maybe you could float me again.”
“You know how I roll, right?”
“Yes sir, Vieho.”
“Let me get my man... Yo Flacko!!! Flacko!!!”
“What up Mr. V.”
“Go get young blood here ten and two.”
“Ok, be right back!”
“Sit tight young blood and we’ll get you fixed right up.”
“Cool…”
“Here you go Mr. V.”
“Good look’in Flaco.”
“Holla if you need anything else Mr. V. Peace.”
“Peace Flac...Ok young blood, here go twelve hundred, get three O’s. Put the word out to your people that you got fresh and post-up at your spot down in the garden.”
“What about Sue?”
“Let me handle that bitch! Now, break down into quarters and let them go for onetwentyfive.”
“Shit…that’s…fifteen hundred, right?”
“Right young blood!”
“Bet, I’ll holla at you tomorrow with your end.”
“Peace…”
“Peace Vieho!!!”

get’in blowed while get’in blowed

she rolled tight sweets and she gave good brain
the elevation was so intense i almost went insane
i’ll never try the shit, but she was flyer than cocaine
both heads got blown then the cat got slain
it was so good to her that she tatted my name "SUPA!!!"

yo soy

sometimes it gets lonely being solo
word to my man Meth, i do for dolo
like them rubber bands i keep it low pro
i don’t pack but i still bring the heat tho
don’t look for plex, but what tha fuck you say’in yo?
i was blow’in big but shit got depress’in so
had to put it down and regroup, now i’m ret-to go