rather burn out (rap/poem about crystal)

my temper burns hot like the spoon to the flame
bitches catching feelings, but im too caught up in the game
all your bitches stand in line, to catch a glimps of my fame
but im too busy getting lit, to kick it with you lames
im always on my shit, and im always smoking it
tweakin on the weekends is only just the start of it
always ridin dirty, but pigs never check my socks
always leaving with my sack, while you niggers sniffin rocks
fuckin bitches think they thug and know all the tricks
then tell me why im pushing weight, and your out sucking dicks
im stay hating on those nasty hoes, never had no hustle,
all they know is how to blow
are you jealous bitch?
i got a gangster for a man
i dare you to look again bitch
ill put your ass in check, those are my lips tatted on his mother fucking neck
red dickies, white socks, fresh white t
all you dirtnugs wish you were rolling with a real G
blowin clouds all night, you'll never catch me stressin a sack
cause my pockets always full, i'm always blowing through stacks
i floss my shit, because you aint got shit and its funny to see your ass needing shit
you lames are constantly kickin, you always lookin sick bro
got a clean needle bitch? the answers always no
all you trout bitches are the reason im always stayin fly, even when im high
never trashy, always classy, stayin twisted in the sky
theres always those shady ass bitches trying to come up quick
pocket check those tweakers and youll always find your bic
slammed back bitches are the best though
buy a sack, next thing you pimpin the hoe
but i guess thats how shit works in the fucked up game
you can hustle all your life and fade away with no fame