The naughty old bishop of Birmingham
buggered two boys whilst comfirming 'em
 as the knelt before god
 he pulled out his rod
and pumped his episcopal sperm in 'em

There was a young whore whose de-light
        Was to lure all the men of the night.
        She'd en-trap them with bets,
        Then ad-mi-re their pecks
        And then stare at the ceil-ing all night.

               There was a young fellow named Chivy 
               Who, whenever he went to the privy, 
                    First solaced his mind, 
                    And then wiped his behind 
               With some well-chosen pages of Livy 

De Ebonics Crimmus Poem


Wuz de nite befo Crimmus;
And all ower da hood;
ereybody wuz' sleepin';
Dey wuz sleepin' good.

We hunged up our stockings;
An hoped like de' heck;
That old Santa Clause;
Be bringin' our check.

All o'de fambily;
Wuz layin in de beds;
While Ripple and Thunderbird;
Danced through dey heads.

I passed out inna' flo;
Right nex to my Maw;
When I heard sech a fuss;

I looked out thru de bars;
What covered my doe;
'spectin' de sheriff;
Wif a warrent fo sho.

And what did I see;
I said, "Lawd look at dat!!"
Ther' wuz a huge watermellon;
Pulled by giant warf rats!!

Now ober all de years;
Santa Clause, he be white;
But looks liken us bros;
Gets a black Sanna dis nite.

Faster dan a Po'lees car;
My home boy he came;
He whupped on dem warf rats;
An' called dem by name!

On Leroy, on 'Lonzo ;
And on Willie Lee;
On Saphire, on Chenequa;
Dey wuz a site to see!!

As he landed dat watta' mellon;
Out der in da skreet;
I knowed it was fo' sho';
Da damndest site I ebber did see.

He didn't go down no chimbley;
He picked da' lock on my doe;
An' I sez to myself;
"Shit!! He done dis befoe!!!"

He had dis big bag;
Full of prezents I 'xpect;
Wid Air Jordans and fake gold;
To wear roun' my neck.

But he left no good prezents;
Jus started stealing my shit;
Got my drugs, got my guns,
Even got my burglar's kit!!

Wit my stuff in de bag;
Out da window he flewed;
I woudda' tried to catched him;
But he stoled my 'nife too!!

He jumped on dat wadda' mellon;
An' whipped out a switch;
He wuz gone in a seccon';
Dat son of a bitch!!

Next year I be hopin':
Anutha Sanna we git;
Cuz' diz here Sanna Clause;
Jus' ain't werf a shit!!!

Alas for a preacher named Hoke, 
            Whose shit was all stuck in his poke. 
                He farted a blast 
                That left hearers aghast, 
            But nothing emerged but some smoke.