Can we talk?

She said "Sure, give me a minute"

Wait a few seconds, that minute turned to ten,
Now one hour later,
She was ready to begin?

"What do you want to talk about?"
she yelled from
across the room.

Silence, I was sleeping.
But just then, she was about to hear the boom

So.......
She came at me like a wartime poet,
dropping bombs on my head like
I didn't even know it,
Ripped holes in my shirt
and I couldn't even sew it.
She busted rhymes in my mind
even CeLo couldn't own it.
Words flying so fast,
I coulda swore they were stolen.
She moved one step closer
and boom, I was falling.

Each time my mouth opened
I couldn't even answer,
Each word that I stut t t tered was
like lyrical cancer.
I ran around the room like
a Soul Train dancer.
Side stepping her questions
like I was her little **** prancer.
"*******, *****"
my words just got a little fancier.

Whoah!
"Who do you think you are,
are you done spitting it yet??"
You began this little battle,
but I'll be the one finishing it.
My words are louder than gunshots
Cuz, I'll be the one killing it.
I'll just turn my *** around
Cuz you'd be the
one kissing it.
This is only the beginning,
and I'm not finished dishing it

Shhhhit!!

She just broke in with a loud
"OH!! YOU DONE YOUR TIME"
So you can get on outta here with those wasted lyrics,
stupid rap, and busted rhymes.
This is my house, boy,
and you ain't living off this welfare dime.
Now, go cheat with some other hoes
and sip on their Boone's Farm strawberry wine.
Oh and one more thing, you might
want to call 9-1-1,

Cuz I am about to commit
****** on your *** and a misdemeanor crime.

See you were nothing to me
but my little, poor "boy toy"
and when I say "little" ..it wasn't
very much of joy joy.
The only time I got real excited and wet
was when you were walking out
my front door, door.
So, now carry your sorry ***
on over to your ex's house
cuz she was the real effin' *****, *****.

Oh, that 65" flat screen is mine, so is that X-Box,
touch one more ******* thing in here or I'll
double tap your ***
with the pair of my triple chromed 9mm hollow point custom made Hello Kitty Glocks.
Your time is up,
so say good bye once and for all
count it 1, 2, 3 or I'll punch your ******* clock.

Pass me the bottle
to my youth,
because I am on another
******.

I think it all started
when I just 16.
My parents were gone.
The liquor cabinet was full
of 750ml bottles
of
of
Yes, AL CO HOL!!

One little sip
of the amber hue
colored liquid
wouldn't hurt,
Would it?
I sure hope not.
Because I was
Alco-curious.

Down the hatch the first shot went.
****!
Oh lord, it burned like hell
going down my throat.
My intestinal track
was screaming ****** ****** at me
to stop this insanity.
Then came the second and third and fourth shot.
And it tasted so so good.
Mmmm mmmm mmmmm

After a night spent
in a spinning room
of mystical illusions
and countless prayers
to the only porcelain God I knew,
I felt
like I needed more.

It all started on a Friday
and ended on Sunday.
The day in which prayers
to all the gods came full curcle.

Four empty bottles laid
scattered across the carpeted floor
and me laying under the coffee table,
with only my plaid boxer shorts and socks on.
My eyes would only half open
and my head was pounding
like a jack hammer and I knew why.

I sought pure enjoyment at that moment.
My first teenage ******.
I truly loved every minute of it
or I think I did. I don't remember it.
Maybe the following weekend
would be my second.

We can never
rewrite history
and the future
is impossible to pen.

When the present
bears only anarchy
in the darkened,
tainted hearts of men.

As time trickle down the stream,we bow down to fate, saluting the years