Happy Birthday, Lucky Bastards

What Midnight Light,
What Sound of Casino,
What beauty of the modern Eye,
Las Vegas Strip, one wants to die.

It takes few Master Pimps,
Some Drinks, Some Good Food,
Suit case of money,
Oh this feels good.

I bet on red,
That is why I am sad,
These guys are better,
They bet much greater.

They are BJ professors,
They are Blue Label or better,
They are get rich or die trying,
They are 8 Mile.

So this weekend,
In the Encore Vegas,
There will be two birthday Pimps,
Getting happy or better.

They will be feasting
Get wasted and fucking,
We will all be here,
And we gonna like it, AIT!

Who am I

That open corner,
How crave thee,
On Monday morning,
When life begins,

He slowly, creeps
He jokes, He dances, He parades
Those who are watching,
Stand and crave

That open corner,
Has his name,
But he who dances,
Loose the aim

Those who are trying,
Get the boot,
Those who are lying,
Never loose,

I often wonder,
Is it true?
That Every corner,
Misses you.

Only the smart,
follow the pavement,
only to find
Pothole filled with anger

Those who are stupid,
Never loose,
Those who are angry,
Get the boot

That makes me, what?
A pig? An ass? A Jork?
 Who doesn’t ever
Know whats best?

One thing is clear,
We are here to stay,
What ever happens,
Obama pays.