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Cool Boy
There he comes in his noise
To get himself into the cool boys
He carries himself a knife
Neither for killing nor for defending his life
Normally it's part of his swagger
For he is training to be a smuggler
His voice vibrates like a spear
And it always hurt in my ear
He has deep voice and he sounds so loud
Looking at himself he feels so proud
Swag and sag is his new game
Nigger in the club is his new name
He drinks, smokes and deals with drugs
And spends his money to pay for the hugs
He gets his friends after making his plan
But they all run away when his money is done
He keeps on stealing
And keeps on killing
His life on a spoon
We'll burry him soon.
poem
by
Walani Ndhlovu
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