I take the Pills my Docs Prescribed.
in Hopes they’ll Keep me Fortified.
To Thank these Docs before my Nap,
with Researched Words – my Geezer’s Rap:
Bowel-Movement, Bowel-Movement, Bowel-Movement, Clap,
Is the Beat for this here Rap.
Seems my Doctors want to Know,
when I see Them – Greet with “Yo!”
Sagging skin Upon my “Grill,”
“Punk” I’d call my Memory Still.
Wouldn’t term my Teeth as “Def.”
“Hella” is my Hearing Theft.
“Bling-bling” veins Upon my Leg,
“Tight” is what my Knuckles Beg.
Losing hair Around my “Crib”,
“Food Box” shows Up on my Rib.
Aging is no longer “Cold”,
“Buggin” are my Leaks be Told.
“Bananas” seems My life of Late,
“Tight” appears This heart to Date.
Old Dogs – New Tricks who’s to Say,
Go on Tour though Old and Gray.
I’ll be There through Gas and Cramps,
Give my All as “Rapping Gramps.”