Home Articles / Poems THE “G” UNDER HER STRINGS



Heard her calling for her G, wonder what this could be

The Moon & the Sun standing still

The sky mirrored over the blue sea

Just like the Queen is, her obligation is always to thee

Even though most time she stings

Yet the bee hovers beautifully when she sings

Her Ass is full of honey, producing semen for the money

Though most times she’s minx & cunning

Her beauty could ever be stunning.

He’s the G under her strings

The only one that makes her body dings


He’s the G that makes her strings

They are the pink that makes us sing

Even Adam couldn’t resist his Eve

After her perversion with the snake in Eden’s deep

They are ruling our nation, making us fall on motion

Dishing out apple of emotions causing total commotion

Making us to suffer for what is kept under cover.

They are the agent turning our life’s table

Most time making us miserable, knowing fully her milk is desirable.

The catalyst speeding up our soul’s reaction

The element getting us back into action

They are indispensable, unavoidable & irresistible

They are the pink with d strings; we are the G with the ring.


Heard them call him G, knowing well she owns the key

Standing on high heels with a dangling waist to feel

A cozy chest to sleep, a mercy’s body to kill

Hips that doesn’t lie, a cleavage that pops so high.

Women can’t be spelled without the men

Neither female without the male

We are the G in their strings;

They are the pink that makes us sing

Our bell won’t ring without hearing them

Our cock won’t crow without seeing them

Our music won’t play without adding them

Cus we are so incomplete without & without them.


Believe what I say about these pinks

We are the “G” under their strings.




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