Spitfall

We saw you every day with your hands on your crotch and so much to say

You went from bouncing toy cars with golden motors to neon striped BMWs and a court of drugged up nodders and quoters

Namefucking fame on all photos, all cheered on and applauded by even richer promoters

Now when you're a star, when you've reached this far and the world really knows who you are (really?) you show off your six black Mercedeses and drink Cristal like they all do

And the poor outside your gates appall you, and the only hood you see is the one on your car