By ANDREW NGUYEN
Staff Writer
Encage my claws of hands, and I will hurdle my feet for them Yeezys,
Throw my feet in a ditch, and I will bash my skull for them Yeezys,
Knot my head down to a table, and I will gnaw through metal for them Yeezys,
Yank out my fangs, and I will carve swords out of my ribs for them Yeezys,
Yeezy
Yeezy
Yeezy
I finally copped them Yeezys,
I’ve traded my body and my soul, but nobody’s noticed,
‘Cause everybody still has them own shoes, and nothing else has changed,
But at least I can sleep lifeless, Knowing I have them Yeezys
North West • Sep 4, 2017 at 7:02 pm
Dude, I have 3 pairs of Yeezys and I don’t feel remotely the same way that you do. This poem is cringy. It is more cringy than feminist slam poetry. I can tell that you dont understand anything about high end fashion. I hope you enjoy my feedback.