House Boy - Count Bass D

Leo-street literature

Front passive to the masses

For whom he nominates to dominate and keep castin'

Promotion serves ego, advertising yields confidence

Fight her A-trains for glory, fighter B eyes the purse

After the love is gone, the fun is a verse

Yet they constantly debate whether greed is worse

Muscular beats for feat, free market the new scheme

Old rebel regime no female left behind

She exercises her right not to listen to anything anybody has to say

Her name is May

And that’s exactly where her chips fall

To where with all to grasp

Assets the world’s tether ball

Arbitrator, sounds like a setup

Pius uncommon numerator, House Boy Conroy

Fetish for effort

Nobody’s in Roswell

Nobody in the body bag

The comrade on the drum pad

Online sea of clever rhymes and punchlines

Viewed as his output slid on a decline

Pickup artist, throwin' salt to the salt mine

Single minute spent is an utter waste of time

He knows better, an expert smart Alec

A swift quick of wit, nearly got his ass kicked

Unofficial House Boy, gigalo with a halo

In the same vain as a villain in terms of how they lay low

Grew up together, but became an apart

Follow Baseball together for a friendship kick start

Old time with blessing, more window dressing

More superlatives, more law arresting