The plight and end game for a drug dealer.

They screaming stop, but I can’t stop,

It comes with the territory, running from the cops.

Extreme measures in a game ran by politicians,

Got me ducking for cover, scrambling for position.

Gotta be careful, before I come up missin’

Repetitive motions are often noticed by undercover cops,

Just before the dime drops,

For a minute your life stops,

Now you’re shackled down in a room 6 by 6,

with thick blocks.

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Comments (1)
  • Robson Grant on May 7, 2011

    The second sentence in this poem is not grammatically correct. Maybe the person who wrote this was on drugs when they wrote it. LOL

    They screaming stop, but I can’t stop,

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