On digital blocks where the bold ones post,
Paper Boi stands, revered like a ghost.
Typing with wit and a fearless flame,
Dropping sharp takes, earning his name.
Threads ignite when he enters the fray,
Truths and jokes he blends in display.
He’s part philosopher, part streetwise sage,
Dropping gold lines page after page.
Lowkey legend of the Coli halls,
Where memes and madness bounce off the walls.
Through sports debates or social smoke,
He’ll leave you cooked—no need to poke.
Some say he trolls, some say he teaches,
In every post, his reach still reaches.
So here’s to the poster, the myth, the man,
Paper Boi—always with the upper hand.
Paper Boi stands, revered like a ghost.
Typing with wit and a fearless flame,
Dropping sharp takes, earning his name.
Threads ignite when he enters the fray,
Truths and jokes he blends in display.
He’s part philosopher, part streetwise sage,
Dropping gold lines page after page.
Lowkey legend of the Coli halls,
Where memes and madness bounce off the walls.
Through sports debates or social smoke,
He’ll leave you cooked—no need to poke.
Some say he trolls, some say he teaches,
In every post, his reach still reaches.
So here’s to the poster, the myth, the man,
Paper Boi—always with the upper hand.
