By Manuel Newton
This is my rhyme about my homie named Nick,
A brother so cool by his side I will stick,
If any motherfucker try to get in his way,
They gonna have to answer to me today,
Making pizzas all night that the customers crave,
No one appreciates; they make him a slave,
Managers yelling, “Nick, don’t misbehave!”
His anger gonna explode in a deadly shock wave,
Right out the door you see him step,
Sick of bitches that act like a pussy ass prep,
The pride in his heart, at least he kept,
Anger building inside, we knew he would snap,
As much as I hate to see him go,
Not wanting to say I just lay low,
Managers ragging the menstrual flow,
I understand his point, hello, I know,
Pizza makers they never get tips,
They just get bitched out every time they slip,
Managers don’t care, they always gotta trip,
One day Nick’s gonna give ‘em a big fat lip,
But Nick is my homie, I really do care,
And I’m not just blowing off useless hot air,
I’d take a bullet for him, I hope he knows,
So fuck all the pussy ass fagot ass hoes.