| Either turn a blind eye, or learn to climb high
|
| Heights are bird’s-eye, pining birds cry
|
| From pines opining the words I per-scribe
|
| Combine the sight-seeing perched on birch I
|
| Got burned on pyres heard the word to wise
|
| Search the surface sure fits are first to die
|
| All my personal ties-dyed by turpentine
|
| Time to turn the tides, tidals turned to fires
|
| If I don’t earn my stripes I go serpentine
|
| This is versifier versus verse for hire
|
| I surf the current search where urchins hide
|
| Describe the words so verdant averse to liars
|
| In the lair layers-peeling earths design
|
| Later pills appeal built purple skies
|
| Way uphill &still felt immersified
|
| Murdered like rehearsal it hurts to find
|
| While we live in the gutter they mimic each other
|
| I’m gutted like fishes while fishing for love
|
| And I give em the mud from my limbs like a drug
|
| They’re so limited, lemon on tongue
|
| Heavy lead from my lungs
|
| I’m a leper these leopards left steps on my stomach
|
| It’s never enough, I’m the Shepard you summoned
|
| The sum of the efforts, still some are for never
|
| Let everything flush because nothings forever
|
| You ever just tasted your blood? |
| Maybe it’s rust
|
| I’m erasing the touches you left on my skeleton breaking the trust
|
| Still defacing my days, while I’m facing the flood
|
| I’m a raisin in suns, raising razors to cut
|
| Cut aways to the rays in the summer
|
| Arrays of the thunder I’d make just to savor the suffering
|
| Chasing what was, we’re all made just to fade into dust
|
| Fold my limbs up like origami
|
| It makes it easy to store the body
|
| Humor me &my morbid hobbies
|
| They’re made of carbons of course they copy
|
| So they’re zombies flow to heartbeats
|
| Prose McCarthy, Murakami
|
| Atheist spits with form that’s godly
|
| That ain’t for me G that’s for my Rottie
|
| Be careful my crosshairs might come for your head
|
| From here you look like a fly stuck in a web
|
| I am so fabulous God in the flesh
|
| I am so Lazarus summon the dead
|
| I’m not one to play I, want the smoke and the hate
|
| And I hope that you pray
|
| Because I know that you won’t get to wake
|
| And you won’t be so woke at your wake
|
| I’m in my bag like Asami victims
|
| Don’t say shit, who saw me vic em?
|
| Tear through flesh like a Pardee picture
|
| You’re scared I’m read like McCarthyism
|
| Look at my scalp to see sixes aligned
|
| These Judas' smile while they’re gripping a knife
|
| I’m know I’m a star so I give em my light
|
| We’re passing each other like ships in the night |