I got a wicked proclivity for impulsivity, much sensitivity, and rhyming ability, I got a sense of relativity which means that I can see–things–inadvertently, cuz I’m not really trying to be selling what you’re buying but it’s just the way it goes when my brain’s deep frying…
And its so electrifying, like the socket in the wall, poke your finger in it and get knocked into the hall, then ya make a call–“hello 911, I just got shocked and it wasn’t very fun…”
And it’s pretty hot like sittin in the sun, but enough of that now get the day begun…
it’s a hum drum life but it ain’t that bad, sometimes things get better than they had–been… but then again, some things–tend to get worse–usually ok cuz it ends up in my verse, and there’s still time to kick into reverse, before what point I will end up in a hearse…
So open up a box of pop top flop shops, pale in comparison to the honeys in their crop tops, orgy on the microphone every time the beat drops, singin so hard that ya gonna need a cough drop, and like the robot, been known to pop locks, got so much to say I could go on Ted Talks, bring it with some spirit–tell the haters go & take a walk if they don’t want to hear it…
He got a tongue like a riot gun,
Scatter shot boom, nowhere to run,
A cornerless room, and it’s all good fun–to watch and to listen, he’ll tell ya what you’ve been missin’… Or chose to ignore; ignorant fools kicked to the door, and they’re so dumb, that they come back for more, not knowing what is flowing from the fount that is he, tearing them down so eloquently, but it’ll never be seen if ignorance is bliss–even when explained to em they will still miss, the point of the tangent–these damn fools are running rampant, but I got the gist, his words aren’t lost, at least on me, but we still pay the cost–they’re dumbing down the system and we all suffer, every indiscretion makes life tougher; and a hand out is what is asked, that’s why people like us have been tasked, to take off our masks and open up a can of verbal whoop ass!
I got a chloroform rag in a ziplock bag, an in my other backpack I got a big black sack and a little toe tag so you better step back lest I have to react to the ■■■■ you are talking so ya better turn around and just keep walking…
I’m still balking at what I thought that I heard–messin around with the wrong damn bird, cuz it may be late but I don’t hesitate when it’s time to create mad lyrical stylings–so much flow yo–no lying, an I know you’re dying to hear–so lend me an ear, don’t have fear of the spear–it’s just words that you hear…
Overcome the beat, listen, hear the retreat, its the sound of your own feet… And that’s ok ,that’s just fine it happens a lot when I start to rhyme… It can be too much like I’m takin your lunch and dunkin it in to bowl of punch sayin get down and gimme a crunch–or two, make a jiggle belly comment&make you, resent all the torment and hopefully make you come at me in retortment, ya bring an assortment of nouns and verbs–I’ll hook it up with wild words, ya heard?