I'm Perfect, Too Perfect

One o'clock, m'on,
bandit, lock on.
In my reticle
upgrade to Popsicle.

Street walked
guy-blocked,
couplin' perfect match,
my radar out of hatch,
target heading,
gun da-ready.

One six seven
almost heaven,
sixty-two weight
perfect to date.

Vanilla-cocoa hair
completely fair.

Armed with 2x2 cups,
feels my mental slaps,
quickly set up ignore shield,
guided by geomagnetic field.

Step aside – giveaway,
ready for more, hey.

Imperfect Object = just right,
ideal scouting site.

No future to cast:
Share my Past to last...

Note:
Chad-assisted, ego-tweaked for lifelong performance.