Bare my souls grace
burn green to probe space post haste
showin' God my smoke face
stoned pain breaks the choke chain
blown brain, toned bass, explode rage
problematic ashes
burn your house of cards
to expose the magic, tapped in
the 2nd Latin rapper
to leave your skull baffled
bones shattered, automatic closed casket
fast lane, I've blown past it with no manners
broke bastard to so lavish
toed tragic, exposed passage
radiated flow savage, fantastic damage
pragmatic cult classic
toe taggin' stolen masses
spit gasses, soaking matches
when hope passes
til then I'm killin' masters with chrome hammers
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Notebook Sickness
Down a couple of shots and beers
fear liquidates my tears
what am I doing here?
should I be armed to the teeth, warfare
dreams remove evidence of elements
that protected youthful resemblance
reminisce about the decade of decadents
sick of riding the bench
next to the stench of death
this is my last hit, short of breath
paranoia extorts cops hunting for sport
another pull off the Newport
societies reflection is fact that doom implores
what you think the movements for?
distort dissection of past transgressions
cap aggression Smith and Wesson
packed with lessons
genocide always intended
swept under the rug no mention
unless levied as leverage
jettison political medicine
devastation, end game declaration
final move cultural castration
Grown Up Rap
I’m broken, damaged
rocking Sean P the savage
pen ink the automatic package
distracted from empty fridges
mental sickness reaching all types of frigid
sleep with sinners fight the emotional winter
cold broke, no soap, roaches, rats,
dead love, ducking lead slugs
off with my head
Wastelands back from the dead
rewind selector, lyrics measured
born from conjecture
cock the the lever
bullet to your dentures, unpause the rebel
my life is mental film stock, dead stock
America First code for oppression
protesting in the streets disconnected
hands up don’t shoot
I can’t breathe either
watching these pigs kill off American dreamers
Arrogant
I awoke from a winter slumber
waiting on my ticket to hell’s hot summer
pen with the hustle of gunners
swing the lumber
and watch the fear of god man handle you
illustrate the violence from my mandible
for sinners sake
put the content of my mind on a dinner plate
watch the world eat it up
like Hannibal the cannibal
shots cracking your clavicle, so masterful
pictures painted from anguish
makin’ my language nickel plated
look in the mirror
filled with anger and hatred
testing my patience
my arrogance is so blatant
Windy City in my blood
lovin’ my cadence
get out of my business
unless you’re running with payments
I’m so shameless
Rich Sinners
Started moving weed in the 10th grade
to create my own legendary template
flirted with the drug game
when the homies said I’m next
time to graduate to the Pyrex
scared to move up from the dime flex
after pushing a key under sunny days
moving plenty ways after copping 20k
riding the money wave
burn the wire as the pinnacle of sires
and I ain’t talking about God or Jesus
Vice Lords riding coupes on leases
packing heaters dodging felonies
and misdemeanors
became a different dreamer
when I got locked
during the summer of Ether
fucking hood rats rocking Jordan’s and Fila's
Substance
Frolic in the depths of knowledge
the clock is the heart of life
thinking mundane as seconds tick through one vein
minutes are blood flowing one way
emotions stab at my watch
now I got nothing but time on my hands
bland lifestyles turn heads toward the promise land
media used as contraband
children running the streets in undergarments
immigrants struggle with the dollar
getting the American dream started working as INS targets
while their sons move weed, dodging misdemeanor charges
martyred militants claiming I God
making me guilty of spiritual conviction
visions of guns with violent motion
followed by coffins locked and closed in
hugs and roses, drugs in heavy doses
blunts roasting when memories are toasted
done choking, lying to my own psychosis
emerging from the smoke uncloaked
with my pen as the staff of Moses
hoping to free loved ones
to live life the way destiny wrote it
beyond the way history told it, molded from Augury’s omens
caught in Lucifer's notion, birthed in pyramids
underneath each brick is 26 alpha numerics
words of wisdom glitch in the system, uncaged from the matrix
my physical still held down by gravity
making me a victim of my own tragedies
constantly attacking the man in me
If my thoughts were beings on other planets
engaged in Star Wars, claiming Vice Lord
would they throw up endorphins?
took the game and morphed it
with resident evil kneivel cerebral cortex
sold my way to drop top Porsche’s
Seasons Change got 5 mics in The Source and
I got women with breasts perky and gorgeous
like Halle Berry in Swordfish calling me papi
triple platinum probably, this song features Ja Rule and Ashanti
my fan base just multiples then
getting your undivided attention was my intention
fuck the previously mentioned, birth earth lessons
banging straight out the box like vaginal prosthetics
focus shifts to scribing a magnum opus with such magnum force
I’m forced back to the closet rocking back and forth
eating strange fruit with the spirit of Aaliyah
telling me my soulmate is more than a woman
moving to a glimmer of suicide in my left eye
if I used a 45 to blow my own mind
would I be amongst the greatest of all time
transforming optimum rhymes to collide with Optimus Prime
making me a semi truck
speak divine righteousness it exists in my lungs
money stuns the populous into dicking over god
like a hermaphrodite Israelite masturbating in the face of Christ
what I write is a danger to my group, soon to go solo
a living version of Public Enemy’s logo
combat politics more crooked than Debo’s eye
making the system collapse quicker than Hank Gathers at the half court line
Strung Out
Once commanded a literal understanding
of commandment tablets and Quran fragments
making my mathematics tantric
wasn’t baptized so I couldn’t claim Christ as the savior of my life
hated the fact he turned water into wine
because wine became water to my father
He beat me, my brother and my grandmother’s daughter
as he led his lambs to the slaughter
three souls drowned in the thoughts of the brain washer
making it harder to believe Heaven was branded beyond the granite
church made me pay to search for the creator of earth
they turned religion into a system of pimpin’
watching angels back handing planets knocking my world off it’s axis
true meanings unmasked
teachings we believe in written by a drunken heathen
known as the king of England
plights of Israelites partially removed due to so-called moments of clarity
now known as Hebrews we knew only to seize the moment
making anything before us ancient, the future adjacent
complacent with struggles of previous generations
denying the enslavement of entire populations
Black men confined to join a nation
telling me god is a fragment of my imagination
because the man who created him was pagan, lacking pigmentation
millions became Malcolm Little reading behind dictionary pages
spiritualization treated as pussy so we could face it
still I’m Max from Pi, drilling holes in my brain
to relieve frustration of not deciphering 216 character equations
Black Monday
Rap went commercial
when will it return to program?
nomads become cliche within themselves
as more become product on the shelves
I lay between urban decay and suburbia
society giving my mind a hernia
troubled youth shackled by George W
so I smuggle truth into entertainment
the battle for my allegiance
began when my bloodline was pillaged by Spaniards, who’s my savior?
eyed by enemies a genetic failure
inches from inquisition
commissioned to seek retribution for the movement
until Ras’ tooth pick is saluted
diluted brainwaves become seismic
enriched with stolen jewels of Osiris
snatched off the belt of Orion
I emerged on the horizon
resting on the dark side of the sun
came with 4 Horsemen disguised as Nimrods portrait
birthed dormant in the earth’s uterus
moving through universes with verses to versus
the version of the person I am and will be
photograph my shadow, I’m still me
kill me by electric chair on a Friday
mourn me on a Saturday
bury me under moonlight on a Sunday
all because 6/18/79 was a Black Monday
SELLS
Push beyond 3rd millennium
triple optic adamantium, ink 5th pentium
dream theme music, bent on dominance
30lb magnets amplify my subconscious mind
baptized in stigmata’s bloodline
selling my spritualization, education, lyricism , liberation
which was a mixture of alcohol and a naive fifteen year old
don’t hold dicks like a lesbian chick who can’t make a fist
lip balms, spit psalms as blood drips from my slit palms
cut with the sword of Islam
so my genetic code is told through every musical mold
men trading products of their semen to keep their pockets creamin’
death for treason, forever speaking artistic languages
voice of slaves shackled in chains and whips
yet the same chase chains and whips
cane and chips, fame and tits
what part of the game is this?
all the dick of Pac and Big
what, you forgot about Ra and KRS dismantling ample men
before Jay and Nas started batting?
been sniffing too much Ether
wish I could marry wack MC’s
so I become a wife beater
waking hip hop from its epileptic seizure
God Save Us From The Devil
God body in the human spirit
altercations and penning lyrics made you fearless
pain and anger love to be your muse
bullet riddled bodies still in view
frustration and hatred in the queue, let it stew
your city’s dying, what to do?
gold plated dreams and dirty faith
dapping up friends with empty face
kids disappear without a trace
I’m supposed to wait for the Bible quote to save the day, let us pray what a waste
drowning in the chase screaming into space leaning into taste
heathens in their place, demons in my face
Jesus on the case
easing on the weight rolling off my back
holding on the mask, exposing all the mass
trolling off the tracks, floating through the cracks
frozen all the rats, posing in the traps
closed in heart attacks, popping off the gats
holding off the threats, walking on the net
closing off my breath
oppression architects cashing all the checks
the devils silhouette
please release the rest
therein lies the fucking disconnect
Live From Inner Thought
Sometimes I just want to
do drugs and drink
it's too hard to think
madness on the brink
the missing link
skeletons emerge from the closet
brain celibate dancing the devils mosh pit
John Malkovich with a gun to my head
in the cockpit
counting down the clock ticks
rain pours to wash away the toxins
not knowing who God is
grew up catholic chilling with convicts
learning the block pitch
dealers cutting up the drop ship
definition of context
money knots swelling up my pockets
running from the darkness
bullet proof dodging the glock kiss
38 in the game of life still a novice
verbalizing my written correspondence
live from inner thought
dead man walking amongst lost prophets
backed in a corner running out of options
Generosity
Happy new year depression
it’s just me and you again
finding new ways to explore the connection
generosity what is it?
is it mom cooking for strangers in the kitchen?
is it one day without pain and sickness?
fighting to survive the new version of mankind
working full time struggling to pay my bills, popping pills, faith kills
went from heavy thinker to heavy drinker
once again on the brink of suicide
darkness paints realms inside my mind
violent by design unless I find something to supplement my next high
fighting time, struggling to stay alive
back to the point I don’t believe there’s a god
don’t you think that’s kind of odd
since I’ve spent years talking about the strength of our bond?
gone baby gone is the illusion of freedom of expression
making America great again
through systematic oppression
arrogance stopped us from taking heed to previous lessons
ostrich heads buried in the sand
until the epidemic scurried in the hands of those not affected
murders of my people where considered clandestine
until cellphones popped the pandemic
finally did America believe these klans meant it
generations lusting off the blood fetish
cultural appropriation took away our one weapon
well, I got my guns loaded come get it
let the bullets fly
I love my people, bear witness
I won’t stop until we’re cured of the sickness
and the oppressors recognize our image
Gods Aim
Chicago Bullish
tattooed in the name of Chicago bullets
Chicago ruthless
blood stained with Gods aim
disdain for Gods name
display my inner Gods pain
for Gods sake
who does God thank
when the winds of change reign
forcing my face an odd blank
I walk this odd plank
screaming at the skies
with Gods rage
turn with Gods page
pray where God lays
played in Gods day
happy in plans God laid
tapping into Gods vein
smoking out Gods strain
using faith to act out Gods play
it all works out in Gods way
praise to Yawah
live from the inferno of Dante
Gods Waiting Room
Summon the many arms of Vishnu
to illustrate what I been through
born from a crippled stencil
automated Denku tenchu
walk with so much end view
people ask which God sent you
world’s built on penciled lectures
submerged in clockwork textures
so the masses don’t forget you
words Ginsu stick you
to the point the hands of fate won’t stitch you
mutilated cuts over Nasa’s instrumental temper
the previously expressed views represent Fuze
anything else is a flagrant fuck you
like when El Producto was shakin’ Russell
or when Kimora was takin’ Russell’s pape and hustle
suck it ride ride the snake head muscle
in IPod’s I’m God
uncivilized like Jews scribin’ Muhammad’s face in krylon
eating pigs in eye shot
rockin’ Mein Kamph
screamin’ my God this is what I’m on
from the top of Mt. Zion
battling Jesus Christ and Dylon draped in Izod
cross the pylon 7 points
like when 85 percent find God
my career won’t be defined by nine shots
lifter of gall to elevate a brawl
will the gangsters pop off?
Naw I don’t think they got the balls
bullet casings tappin’ your jaw
until my thumb compresses gun powder into your skull
defying physical law leaving onlookers in awe
I speak through revelations of man
to withstand the pressure of granite and sand
stained glass cuts the prophets hand
blood becomes toxic dislodging DNA strands
turnin’ Yaway to man
and for a moment my soul was hemoglobin
stolen where the remedies to destroy mythological enemies
which became amenities to put men at ease
then turn around and make the word of God an obscenity
makin’ the planet a universal centerpiece for sinful pedigrees
humanity rock carves, the rock starves
my shadow has no choice but to lounge under dog stars
waiting to shed some light on my insight
shove a knife through my eye socket
so my mind gets the point
anoint the circumference of world a perfect circle
summoning enough inertia to bring down
three dimensional sunspots to burn you
with no where to turn to
your views blistered in discontent during winter
like homeless alcoholics juggling bursting vodka bottles over exposed livers
shiver at the thought of normality
the heavens patterned me at the peak mastery
in kings majesty making my earth eclectic
birthing my music soul child
somewhere between the gangsta era and Afro centric
Gorgeous
Dear journal my outlook has become nocturnal
with nothing to turn to spiritualism is segregated
wondering if the entrance to heaven is gated
or is inner peace exaggerated?
walkin’ with castrated brain matter
calculating deaths data into physical matter
wanting it the moment after
masqueraded declaration of struggle
secreted from amniotic muscle
vaginal walls begin to crumble
giving my eyes something to sun to
words of expression are muffled from artistic hustle
as the power of God comes through
the world just assumes then deducts you
while previous beliefs you’ve run to shun you
minuscule ridicule is burden of genius
in my dreamin’ I team with demons
to slap the be Jesus out Christ
with the might of mankind
to give him insight on what its like
to live a life inside his light
falling off the pedestal
readies you to be tailored for failure through anger
then turn around and praise her
for favors from the saviors you’ve already alienated
not realizing you’ve cut off your ears to think in silence
close your eyes and see the world the way God designed it
I’ve blown out the 24th candle on my birthday cake
to calculate the weight of mistakes
made against the world that ain’t
riding the faint taste of fate
as happiness escapes each time my heart palpitates
scowl in amazement at the smiling faces
that strayed from my graces on my training day
applaud change but I’m afraid
I’ve missed my opportunity to gain a leg on the human race
tainted pages paced with patience
parallel with endangered statements
paraded by abrasive language
ending the novel idea/ that I’m a descendant of Pangaea
I see a beacon of glimmer
as holy water simmers in sinners
as scriptured pictures become what my life is framed in
I walk in a misshapen body
oddly enough my tear ducts/ scream I don’t give a fuck
tears of joy deploy for a boy who’s become a man
has yet to understand God’s plan
that was predated when his soul took a vacation in the physical Matrix
and got caged in my hope floats
Don't Feed The Machine
I awoke somewhere between the war of ambition
teetering on the line of fact and fiction
getting burned by the friction
of self savior and victim
enriched with not so God like decisions
birthed within the laws written
plagued by the infinite question
whether religion is a creation of God?
or is God a creation of religion?
to keep us livin’ in the perforated image
christened in our own obsession and sickness
pushin’ the limits conjured by existence
life is a game of inches
but its hard to move forward
when you lack the vision
to judge the distance to the finish
a dishwasher in Hell’s kitchen
drowning in black holes
once covered by my burned bridges
walk a mile in my shoes
if my angels permit it
consumed by daily pace
getting a leg up in the human race
do my features still describe a human face?
capable of human grace?
wondering if I put my heart again
will there be someone who takes?
chase my convictions of spiritualism
didn’t inherit my fathers alcoholism
but I got his rage and pain
coursing through my veins
his muted traits is what my music makes
hold it back and let my dreams react
to the ghost of the man in black
Open time, open door
open mind, open sore
open scheme, broken dreams
broken breathe, don’t feed the machine
This one goes out to my biological father
who didn’t bother after takin’ my mother to the alter
sought to destroy his creations
pushing women to devastation
forcin’ them to touch elevation
rethinkin’ the scope of the presentation
separation all in a blink
lost soul in the drink reflect in the sink
oldest son on the brink of drugs and jewelry
back then that’s what suited me
listeners will understand if they knew
how the hunger pain were doing me
I thought weed, sneakers and women
were the proof of me
til friends were murdered brutally
bullet wounds shook in me
that the hand of God wasn’t movin’ me
now I’m cruisin’ streets with my grandmothers wisdom
she said not to be a victim of the system
be the voice of the people
shine the worded image on their sickness
show the children there’s more to life
than hustlin’ in front of buildings
there’s lots of things in the world that can kill them
that the world can build them
if they let go the feeling of the ceiling
and bring a difference element
with my last will and testament
this ones dedicated to my wastelands brethren
I’m sorry our music didn’t do a better job to better men
I guess the world wasn’t ready to take the medicine
Poison Makes Me Pretty
Welcome my world how to begin it?
limped into Nasa labs on a mission to quiet the cynics
overhaulin’ my life from a distance
civilence mic check one, two
couldn’t walk in God’s shoes even if I want to
its not that I don’t love you
its just I got another place to run to
giving pain the old run through
ask yourself this
what if your heart pumped you
full of women’s indignants
or watching your best friend
get overcome by addiction
then not giving the message of his sickness
then witness his younger sister
get imprisoned by promises of wedding kisses
mixing love for good dickin’
then herself turn to syringes
while the world says good riddance
no rest for the wicked
ever since I made the decision
to wrap my five digits around a pistol
made my final wishes cursed a couple bitches
squeezed the trigger
awoke alive as the voice of the underprivileged
ever since a Cannibal Ox told me to scream Phoenix
surrounded by pigeons fighting for crumbs and inches
protected by God’s vision
the peoples fist has arisen
Today pain placed a number on the age of innocence
I died a little inside when hardcore went impotent
bags under my eyes indifferent to images
of my grandmother injecting insulin
or havin’ to find my friend overdosed on heroin
for the sake of keepin’ this conversation spirited
why was life so hard
when I had to pull the needle from his arm?
wanted time to restart
when I had to call his wife
to tell her life changed
all because he found that vein
too selfish and vain to explain to his kids
he had no will to live
it’s shit like this that makes me want to reattempt
to put a bullet between my lips and french kiss death
what do I got to miss?
heaven won’t even tell me she loves me
the greatest love to never happen
heart broken in fragments
dead with passion my reaction
why won’t the hand of God touch me?
why does the devil try and fuck me?
I guess I’m what happened to ugly
Spirits of dead friends walk in the rain
soul rage paints with blood of the slain
8 blunts of flame straight to the brain
bounce in and out of sane
tryin’ to embrace 99 names
shaking the angst of deception
fallen friends, injections
time tested aggression
buried within the shadow of the half moon crescent
all I’m left with is the curse of God
oh God, I’ve cursed God
God damn it I hate this planet
and the fact I’ve taken my life for granted
while the rich allow the poor to to be stagnate
my spiritual conviction inches me closer
to believe love is wicked
hum du allah, pushed into the arms of a broken star
when the sun filled that void
while the dark side of moon left me destroyed
bring on the ‘noid heard a voice ask me
if I’m friends with God
or friends with Satan
It depends upon the situation
my dreams flip through pages of anguish
cleansed with wisdom of the ancient
chasing the life force that loves me
til then I ask what happen to ugly
Pollination
106 DEGREE HEAT INDEX
DROWNING IN A SEA OF MENTAL IMPOTENCE
I GUESS IGNORANCE IS BLISS
WAITING FOR THE SWITCH
PECKED ON THE CHEEK BY FATES PERFECT KISS
MY INDENTS ARE STIFF
AT THE END OF MY ROPE
RATHER BE RESPECTED AND BROKE
THAN THE BUTT OF A JOKE
HOLDING ON TO HOPE
THAT I FIND MY PLACE IN HISTORY
LOOKING TO GOD TO CURE MY MISERY
BUT HE HASN’T BEEN A FRIEND OF ME
SINCE I LEFT JESUS STANDING AT THE MEZZANINE AT 16
KARMA STEPPED IN TO INTERVENE
AND COMPLETELY CHANGED THE WAY THAT I REACH
THE WAY THAT I BLEED
THE WAY THAT I TEACH
MY HATRED CAN BE FOUND IN THE PAIN THAT I SPEAK
AND THE RAGE THAT I PREACH
SPACE HOLDS THE KEY
TO THE PRAISE THAT I SEEK
THESE ARE THE DAYS THAT I LEAVE BEHIND
TRAPPED IN TIME
GIVING SIGHT TO THE BLIND
WHILE FIGURING OUT MY OWN DESIGN
WONDERING IF I SUFFER FROM THE SAME AFFLICTION
AS MY FRIENDS WHO FELL TO ADDICTION
MARIJUANA AND PILLS CHANGE MY POSITION
CLOUDING MY VISION
FORCING ME TO SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN
UNABLE TO FOCUS ON MY FRACTURED REALITY
WAITING ON LOBOTOMY AND TOXICOLOGY
TO TOUCH OTHER GALAXIES PROVING VALIDATION
FOR MY VERBAL MASTERY
SCREAMING FUCK THE UNIVERSE
FOR ALWAYS HARASSING ME
I REFLECT ON THE DAYS SPENT
FREESTYLING TO MYSELF ON THE PARK BENCH
CRAFTING MY WORDS TO BECOME A MARKSMAN
LEARNING TO HARNESS THE POWER I WAS GIVEN
WATCHING PENS AND PENCILS STIFFEN
TURNING INSTRUMENTALS TO LIQUID
LETTING THE WORLD KNOW ABOUT MY SICKNESS
PUTTING ON A MASK
LIKE DOOM AND STANLEY IPKISS
TO PROTECT MY PSYCHE AND FRAGILE IMAGE/
FRONTING OFF LIKE I WAS LIVING
DEEP DOWN I KNEW/ THE HEAVENS WERE LIVID
BECAUSE I TOOK UP RESIDENCE IN HELL’S KITCHEN
ONLY THE DEVILS LIPSTICK PROMISED TO FIX
THE FRUSTRATION I LIMP WITH WITH THE QUICKNESS
SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA LIVE INDIGNANT
TO APPRECIATE THE FEELING OF SUFFOCATION
POLLINATION, ELATION, ELEVATION
EMOTIONAL SCARS WORN AS MEDALS OF DECLARATION
BRING ON THAT NUMB SENSATION, HIBERNATION
From Save The Horn
Berserker Fury
Don’t let ‘em push the button cousin
who let the dusted gluttons in the function?
this ones dedicated to the baby boomers
daily gloomers who maneuver through the future
with scalpel and suture gettin’ the world wide open
takin’ back the stolen notions that
there’s no hope for the hopeless
while the soulless steal our token
forcing us to roast the potent
pour the Molsen holdin’ our emotions
while they steal the word from the pulpit
ignoring the fact the globe is more corrosive
focus, chokin’ on nuclear wind
back then when me and Stukin the kid
where boozin’ the gin, cruisin’ for chicks
not realizing sin was the movement within
penning anthems for the masses
bringing forth this classic
unleashing the magic of the manical ox
who unlocked the lock that my mandible got
birthing my own radical rock
letting go of fanatical plots
I’m going down in a blaze of shots
rot in eyes of judge and jury
feeling my berserker fury
Skeleton Key
Soul unrested my minds infested
with other peoples questions
I’ve never taken the time
to relieve my own tension
open up my thoughts and find
where the scars are impressed in
how does it make you feel
you don’t know the reasons
for your best friends lessons?
where there’s pain you find the connection
what about that little girl
you tried to give the world?
hope you didn’t mess up her vision of life
by putting your heart where she isn’t
regret getting her name
tatted on your wrist yet?
it’s being a father figure from a distance
it’s unfortunate you can’t live through intention
happy birthday baby, maybe one day
you’ll understand what you been through
when you feel sadness
that’s the Devil trying to get you
remember I’m always with you
til then I’m an empty seed
left with my heart for a skeleton key
Doomsday Device
Hey yo peace God
I said peace God
over centuries many have tried to beseech God
unpiece and then reteach God
in their own vision and image
somebody please seat the cynics
but I didn’t convey McVey
and when the towers came down
I was angry my eyes were misty
that day I was a resident of New York City
you couldn’t shift me from in front of the TV
believe me my brain was bludgeoned
from hours of news coverage
that’s something I’ll never forget in my lifetime
but then we disrespect the dead
with talk of conspiracy theories and oil pipelines?
I was disgusted with negativity portrayed towards Muslims
like we got together at a function
and celebrated the anguish
that people felt searching for family
revolution didn’t come from calamity
now I’m supposed to give up/ my shot at mastery
because some terrorists got fed some bullshit at an extremist factory?
Dollar Billed Pyramids
In God I trust
knock the dust off my faced in value
I’m chased in volume
encased in volume of money, cash, hoes
bloody stash nose
her body has those curves
that instill the thrill
to kill bills like
some coked up Beatrix Kiddo
in the back of spliffed out limos
without the tinted windows
suckin’ for the fiscal
her bodies oh so sinful
to the instrumental of
Can’t It Be So Simple
lookin’ at this girl there’s nothing
she won’t get into
while her son’s at home
smashin’ on Nintendo
she’s blowin’ on them whistles
down to the creamy gristle
gettin’ whipped by pistols
just to feed her kiddo
100 dollar billers
make her titties jiggle
thinkin’ my God, he’s never gonna uplift you
Wonder Years
What’s wrong with that man Daddy?
I don’t know, keep staring
he’s a freak show
legs sponsored by Calico
police peek through the peep hole
and see the tears of Calixto
huddled over Nico
blood fresh off the needle
witnessing the last time
the rush fuckin’ pleased you
fold your hands son
here comes the church
and the steeple
then the people who tried to piece you
and your mind as feeble
holding onto drugs
as the reason God won’t keep you
my soul became see through
flash my confined mind to the 1-9-9-9
at that time when I took a blind sign
to a nines shine
seconds away from resting my sublime mind
on a Pink Floydian wall
outsiders think Freudian thoughts
appropriate laws lay under fears
to get me through the wonder years
From After Years Of Television
Locust Myst
Oh my God I’m in fight for my life
struggling to see the light
I lift the last bit of rubble and bricks
to wake up to a sunless kiss
surrounded by the locust mist
face severely burned upper lip blistered
greeted by mother natures nuclear winter
accompanied by apocalypse her twin sister
feet splintered Jesus now I know how Christ felt
when the non believers dealt their hand to sinners
nailing his soul to wooden fixtures
which mirrors the reflection of a society
bent on self propriety
eyeing me a dead weight
not a contribution element
cursing my melanin I don’t ride the dick
of a mule or elephant
words once heaven sent become here say
like knowledgeable abdominal follicles
off the Devils topical
funny how Armageddon changes your perception
continue to move through the wreckage
looking for medics or where enforcement is
come to remains of an orphanage
dead children, burning buildings, gone are my feelings
it’s bad enough I’m dealing with the scenic
piles of dolls plastic and pissy mattress
oh shit a survivor maybe he knows what happen
Break Down The Walls
28 degrees wind chill below zero
put on the cape its time to play hero
God the grind is so sterile
looking to freeze time like Hiro
realizing my life runs on batteries
the battery of my MP3 player
summoning demon slayers with clarity
Razor Fund angels staring me towards the sun
saving me from the flash flood
the battery of my phone
is anyone out there?
I know I’m not alone
call me to let me know
I still have a soul
cut me off at the knees
a walking prayer ain’t no pun
Jesus, someone had to loosen the clip on that gun
2001 the year I found God
my God help me break down the walls
to help me find my lost cause
it's detrimental to the sequential events
that spawn cause and effect
and the effect it has on the thoughts in my head
once left for dead
remember that time I asked for a sign?
and said if you deliver me a healthy baby
music doesn’t have to pay me
well the first seven years were a monster
but the last two
I’ve got got to reconnect with my daughter
but my music career still falters
coincidence?, maybe from the distances the cynics sit
relationships on kindred shit
looking for Sleeping Beauty but I’m Milicent
brain pumping militant an icy view
in to the ICU
shook to shit when I found
my brother was due
in the shooters class at NIU
God I see you
your soul ain’t see through
from the clouds you peek through
how do you do? Mr. me too
forcing me to bleed through
they say the deepest cuts teach you
forcing the heavens to keep you they need you
tattoos are martyr scars
look Mom I can ride my bike with no handlebars
maybe that’s why my legs don’t work
I know we always haven’t been on the best terms
but I want you to know
your persistence and measure
helped me make the best turn
thank you for helping me find forever
I hope you still got your dream catcher
break down the walls