I could tell by your shirt,
North forty-five and west seventy-five,
Does that mean you're a jerk?
Don't mean you can get a breakfast sandwich,
Heated three times over,
Pocket the Naked juice when no one sees,
Then say sorry to the Starbucks worker.
Like who get's Starbucks breakfast sandwiches?
Okay, I did one time,
But it was free and I learned my lesson,
Looking back, I'd written lack-luster rhymes.
I shouldn't speak,
In fact, I rarely do,
Like now as I watch the bobbing bottle,
Poking out the overalls of that dude.