I ve banned tec from our table
Tec is the terrorist in town
I ve banned tec from the bedroom
Tec is numbing us
Interacting is not cool
Interfacing is what's happening
I neck the new illness
Talking face to face
Is old school
Back in the day
When hanging out on walls
At the phone box
Now people go no where
Snap chatting what's it app app app
Instasham
Face ache
Phwww
It's all too much for me
Overloads pointless
tec is taking over

By: Cedric McClester

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

A ***** lookin for respect
Could pull out a Nine or Tec
At a time you least expect
And you might have to hit the deck
Cuz when the bullets start to fly
Those who don’t just might die
And you don’t wanna go - okay
Like ****** do around the way – cuz

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

Keep one eye open when you sleep
Cuz in the hood life is cheap
So watch the company you keep
Your main man might be a creep
Don’t let ‘em get the drop on you
The way some ****** like to do
They’ll roll up on you with a crew
And run a clip off into you

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

****** don’t respect themselves
Never mind someone else
That’s why they keep their gats and shells
And you know what that often spells
Cuz ****** are up to no good
There’s gun smoke in the neighborhood
And it’s high time they realize
That it’s themselve who they despise – cuz

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

Did you ever stop to think
****** could become extinct
In the time it takes to blink
Like some kind of missin link
Unless we suddenly stop killin
The prophesy will keep fulfillin
Even though the thought is chillin
Long as the blood just keep on spillin – cuz

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

Although it’s often said in play
And despite what some folks say
The use of ***** ain’t okay
Though you might hear it everyday
My usage of it in this joint
Is for effect to prove a point
It’s not to glorify the term
But will you ****** ever learn – that

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

Although it’s often said in play
And despite what some folks say
The use of ***** ain’t okay
Though you might hear it everyday
My usage of it in this joint
Is for effect to prove a point
It’s not to glorify the term
But will you ****** ever learn



(c) Copyright 2015.  Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.

Crackling criss-crossing blue in mind. It scissors down the lanes through the pipes and tubes and little dividers. Electrical mind numbing beauty. Veins-bursting in excited anticipation. Convulsions and scenic skittering routes. Into the Nexus! Here simmers what we are thinking and believing. Our mind's eye focuses and drips into the pool until completion. Psionic figures dance flicker through life existence. Pulse-width fluctuations. Tiny menagerie of our Will. Scribbling through dusted panes of time interface. All afire with ourselves once we have discovered ourselves. Nano-tech emotions. Hope fear anger mercy curiosity buzzing swarms of grey goo jibbering and bubbling in an artificial mind-****. What is all this allusion? Nothing complicated. Speculation on future times where sensual technological biological singularity is paramount. In my room where the clocks are taped over and the sun is dark and dim. Through the windows I see myself. The boxes on the floor emanate simple clickings with melodies intertwined casually. I myself appear redundant. I have done this and so have others. To discuss oneself is worthless unless you become convinced you are another entity gazing back across the room. I feel I am being watched. I become cautious as he may have noticed. Tingling weightlessness tickles in waves in both heads. The Jazz Classic appears. Old dark men and women in hazy environments. Organic supposition or cold observation? Both hold importance so let us appreciate it all. The cello quivers and hums with vibration. Fingers callused and riveted like the age-old corn field bother still strings. A child hums to just myself. What does he want? I never asked him for an audience. Yet he freely gives it to me. Now he multiplies. Or she? Children confuse and cause one to be apprehensive. Nothing and silence. Silence in movement. Cease my visual stimulation for a couple seconds each. The child is back. What does he speak? Pray inside the rubble? Heal in this place? In disgrace? I do not know. His octaves are meshing together. Whining and thrumming with strange alterations. Some madmen tweaks my ears. Maybe he knows the child? I'm not sure. Let us continue on. The flute is the child. Old cello, you have stopped? These musings mean nothing. I would look upon them in a year and think nothing of it. Yet it feels as if this time is important. Da Vinci knocks on the door. Not as if I wanted to talk to it. Wouldn't mind I suppose. He is gone. We talked but I do not remember the conversation. Perhaps we've all talked but we just don't remember our conversations. That's ridiculous though. Then anything is possible. We could have flown to the moon on scarlet weasels outfitted with the latest nano-pores that secreted pure liquid indulgence. And we did because I just imagined we might have. However, I don't remember actually doing it. Just what I thought it might have been like. How frustrating. My thoughts are the same as all others who write out their thoughts when under the influence of yourself. It always seems like some thing is scuttling near my feet or under the nightstand; just out of view. Strange. I would be afraid. No reason to fear that which doesn't bother me. No reason to fear much of anything. That's been said before. Why are we so often concerned with saying that which has been said before? Cliche? auump-ump auump-ump auump-ump little thumping noise in my ears. That vibration is calming. Every night I am awake. Every day I seem asleep. I do not like it but I do not care yet I allow it to be what it will. Vision defaults to out of focus. My eyes always cross if I cease trying to control them. People are strange. Animals are strange. Same thing I guess. Someone will find that clever. Someone will find it cliche. This someone won't care. ****** fantasy permeates day to day. More entertaining than living a fantasy though. ***. Not that entertaining. Perhaps no one knows how to do it properly anymore. Maybe we never did. Maybe some people are just disenchanted with it. When I'm by myself, I never have any ****** desire. When around others, I generally think of it out of curiosity: what would it be like to please the person in front of me? The only enjoyment I've had with *** would consist of pleasing another or observing another ****. The human body is intriguing. Definitely. I really do think so. Sometimes I look at my own. Not out of appreciation really. Just the fact that I have body allows me to investigate it and understand it more. Pain is merely a stage one can get past, so I suppose I injure myself sometimes to see how I react. It's like I need to check I'm still working properly. I can't tell when I'm tired. I feel something, but when I ask myself if I'm tired, I murmur back, "I don't know." Maybe that is why I stay up till early mornings? I wanted to add again that the human body is beautiful and unappealing all in the same space. Perhaps the unattractiveness and softness and strangeness produces attraction. A negative and a negative equals a positive. Three negatives likes to fluctuate. In my mind at least. I may ask another to remove their clothing and whatnot during those intimate moments. Eh, never quite feel like having *** though. I like the emotions and sensuality of just looking at someone. They usually want to physically play around with each other. I think I enjoy fighting more. One day I'll leave everyone except I'll reminisce on those I enjoyed meeting. Maybe come back and visit? I would like to ride something quickly through an empty desert. Find my own food and water. Create shelter. Think by myself. My room is the smallest desert I have and the biggest. I have more in my head but I only occupy one at a time. I suppose I like I do like things like all others. I mean, materials can be nice. If I impart meaning on to an object it gains importance. I see it vital to also say that if it were to be lost, then I wouldn't mind and I would obtain something else or nothing at all.The constitution. Just mentioned by some woman in my room. Or in my ears would be more correct. Constitutional Rights. I honestly don't see the need for them. I was criticized for burbling that once. We should not need a constitution. We should be able to do what we like to do without fear or concern. Unless natural fear and concern appears. Now that may confuse a bit. Right to bear arms. I shouldn't have to be told or allowed to massive bear arms if I feel the need to have them. Big hairy bear arms. Curious little mishap. Freudian slip as Johnny said once? Danger Danger. Anyway, Right to bare arms. I shouldn't have to be told, as I look back,  go back and throw in that comma after told, that I'm allowed to bare arms and defend myself. I'll just do it if the need arises. Freedom of speech. That already has many issues these days. However, there shouldn't have been a need to tell people they have freedom of speech. Speech should have been freely allowed and never oppressed in  the first place. Theme? We have erred so much in the past and I would think sometimes we ignore that and just try make little cosmetic fixes by saying it's okay. Another point. Hold that: side discomfort. I sometimes feel like a little spider or creature is crawling or skittering on my leg under the covers or I'll change the music to Galaxy 2 Galaxy 90's hi-tec jazz there we go. Done! Now back! Or I forget what I said about the spiders. Another point: what? ******, curse damnable ****. Can't recollect what it was I was connecting together. Something that tied in to deceiving people into things are okay. I could go on about consumerism and all that jazz. Instead I'm listening to some techno-jazz whatever-decided-to-call-it. Hyphenated phrases are fun when I decide they are appropriate. English and grammar in such can be cool but at the same time I want to say **** it and stay proper. Do both. Acknowledge how to write and speak "correctly," but as long as someone understands what you are trying to say, then why correct more? Someone large doesn't like the fact I make a lot of noise in the morning. I stole some speakers and subwoofer from the room next to me as I was going to say Austin.  They are on the floor and whichever large person lives below me is probably annoyed or was. I don't spend any of my actual time despising them, but I'll easily say I despise them when someone asks. Otherwise it isn't worth wasting time on. Perhaps the vibration quivers downstairs and shakes them silently. The greate beast is perturbed and sneaky vibrations cause electro-annoyance! Her pulsewidth as I understand it must be like a super-saw as I think it. Silence. Some woman said it's just a feeling. HEA not sure what why I put that sounds like a garageband song. Switched to Inspiration! That is what I did this night. Finally start writing and making things again. Even though I never did and always did. My head sometimes hurts from thinking. Never truly though. Gotta say those things to keep the conversation going. That is really the only reason I say anything. To keep the conversation going. Otherwise I'd just watch people and be just fine. Just yelled "bahh," out loud (didn't sound the comma) because I felt the need or the want. Same. Wrong keys erased. sdas=a====dddddddddd Sorry. Oh well. Oh My. How the time flies goodbye. Going nowhere. Could write more but I felt the slight flicker of wanting to stop. So I do. What an ending. Now I'm only typing to continue the conversation with myself. Just thought ******* sounds good melody. Do as I sayt way to go good job. STOPSDMFA

****** a

Guess I'll read this little conundrum I wrote up. Stop writing ******. Stop EDITING

Sitting up at the break of dawn
Memoirs of the suicidal,
I geuss my father is by biggest idol
I wanna be like him -gone...

Call me strange
Like i walk around with a tec nine
Because i'm gonna take what's mine
And no i'm never going to change

So keep talking ****
See how that works out
I'll take you far away where they can't hear you shout,
And upside your head's where you're gonna get split

Still stompin'
Still taking ****
Still getting hit
Still not slippin'

Highway, street, it's right up the road
Hotel stay, motel meet, star of the show
Raise hell day, shell station meet, the more you know
Accelerate, stance nation meet, car is too slow
2.4 the fragile four, that loud *** car guy next door
Four banger, rice ganger, listen to her roar
Blow the engine, trans on the floor
No brakes, stock intake, make Civics cry for more
Fake TRD blew the other rice away
Crop dusting some Honda today
Left some old Civic on the side of the road
Couldn't count on V-TEC I suppose
VVT-i, the never dying ride
Won't hide or deny buttons are fried
But I am the life long roadside guide
Follow mine
Line, line, line, line, line, line
Straight, dash, yellow and white
Line, line, line, line, line, line
Yeah, VVT-i
Line, line, line, line, line, line
Straight, dash, yellow and white
Line, line, line, line, line, line
Yeah, VVT-i

walking thru the valley of words
speechless are our soldiers in war
times of creative breaks, shootings
the sounds of slugs overpower rivals

gangstapoets stand tall in gory hoods
we dunno what fear is, bloodhoundz
as we only need 8 minutes to gather 80
0 traitors, giving bread to hungry ones

one tower, one pit, one block, 1LOVE
feel me rushing over sparklin' glaciers
south florida, 64th floor, ocean fiends
snake charmer in crime, 20 to 55, flip

kobacobraface scammed one of us
unknown were the ties among tizz and gp
in the background, jeezy and assi-toni...

"still on it", "the realest", "kommenzi"
the beats merge in gangstapoet's minds
dominique northstar's silky skin on mine
tissop, the war zones, fallen gangsta poets

dead baby mommas, vamoosing bullets
stop! tizzop is yelling, falling on his knees

and branko, tizzop's red horse approaches
juicy our promises, as sweet as fulfillments
olives, red wine, m2 tec bluetooth babe
red light district, wondaland's lost avenue

in the corner of agony and mania, dey fail
gangstapoets gradually winning turf


to be continued...