Carhartt Men's Workwear Pocket T-Shirt, Ash, XX-Large Tall

#1 on the job Carhartt Workwear Short - sleeve Pocket T - shirt! As good at workin' hard as it is at loungin' around! Sounds a lot like you, eh? Thick, durable 6.75-oz., 100% cotton construction stands up to rough jobsite abuse, while the jersey knit keeps things cool and breathable. Genuine Carhartt comfort and lasting quality. Side-seam construction means no twisting or bunching. 3-button rib-knit collar, left chest pocket. Tagless neck label for comfort. Machine wash / dry. Imported. State Color and Size. Order yours today! Men's Carhartt Workwear Short-sleeve Pocket T-shirt, Tall

Skinny ass pants fresh pair of vans if you n-ggas keep trippin’ n-gga share an ambulance throw up blood with my hands my gang poppin’ n-ggas smoke that kush and not that (?) for you night droppin’ n-ggas all day I do it I do it like Tony got a sign on my d-ck that say “bad bitches only” I don’t drink champagne, it make my stomach hurt man I’m on that patron, f-ck with me wrong and get murked got a silencer on the gun, that bitch go “pu” Got a mean ass swagger, my bitches do too yeah all my n-ggas nuts and I’m a loose screw b-tch I get big bucks pockets on bruce bruce yeah I talk that sh-t bitch I got red to (?) toast welcome to the murder show I am the muthf-cking host they call me Weezy F Baby yes I do the f-cking most Im at their throats until they choke the God has spoke I need a smoke man All these bitches and niggas still hatin’ I used to be a baller but now I’m Bill Gaten’ got a list of full of problems, I tend to em later yeah life is a bitch but I appreciate em man(x2) It go dark ass shades, I can’t see them haters now eat these fuckin bullets, don’t forget to tip the waiter dress like a skater, ride on you like Shawn White I’m high all day, you can call that sh-t a long flight every nights a long night, every day is a holiday I can f-ck the squares now do that mean I’m out of shape yes I talk sh-t, got to defecate to conversate weezy f-ck the world, yup I f-ck it till it ovulate, get her to the crib get in that p-ssy just dominate Weezy F baby and the F is for finer cake Polo Ralph Lauren bitch, yeah that’s what my pajamas say big tall glass of some sh-t you can’t pronounciate (?) in the bezel of my watch with the diamond face still I do not give you mother fuckers the time of day pistol in your mouth I cannot make out what you tryna say and if they want a war, tell them mother f-ckers bombs away All these bitches and niggas still hatin’ I used to be a baller but now I’m Bill Gaten’ got a list of full of problems, I tend to em later yeah life is a bitch but I appreciate em man(x2) Let it breath to em, yes just let it breath to em Young mula baby Young mula baby

Gentleman Alone The young maricones and the horny muchachas, The big fat widows delirious from insomnia, The young wives thirty hours' pregnant, And the hoarse tomcats that cross my garden at night, Like a collar of palpitating sexual oysters Surround my solitary home, Enemies of my soul, Conspirators in pajamas Who exchange deep kisses for passwords. Radiant summer brings out the lovers In melancholy regiments, Fat and thin and happy and sad couples; Under the elegant coconut palms, near the ocean and moon, There is a continual life of pants and panties, A hum from the fondling of silk stockings, And women's breasts that glisten like eyes. The salary man, after a while, After the week's tedium, and the novels read in bed at night, Has decisively fucked his neighbor, And now takes her to the miserable movies, Where the heroes are horses or passionate princes, And he caresses her legs covered with sweet down With his ardent and sweaty palms that smell like cigarettes. The night of the hunter and the night of the husband Come together like bed sheets and bury me, And the hours after lunch, when the students and priests are masturbating, And the animals mount each other openly, And the bees smell of blood, and the flies buzz cholerically, And cousins play strange games with cousins, And doctors glower at the husband of the young patient, And the early morning in which the professor, without a thought, Pays his conjugal debt and eats breakfast, And to top it all off, the adulterers, who love each other truly On beds big and tall as ships: So, eternally, This twisted and breathing forest crushes me With gigantic flowers like mouth and teeth And black roots like fingernails and shoes. Translated by Mike Topp Pablo Neruda