I passed out on
some apartment
steps downtown.
Too much beer and
****** the night before.
two cops wake me,
and take me to jail.
when I got out the
next day,
they gave me my
clothes and property.
I had two ****** left,
and ate them while
changing out of the
tangerine colored jumpsuit.
I stepped into the
bright sunlight,
slipped on my ray-Bans,
nowhere to go.

The simple blessedness meme-complex, I bet,
what is the state of blessed, as in:
have
a blesst
day?

Voltaire, he right there, he say define y'toims t'
convoice wit me we share some air, y'know.

Peacemaker, is the primary integral role of the
being process I formed in.

Childhood drama at 2020 Common Sensed Media Low
sense making in terms of words designated,
subconsciously through designer sneezers,

say, did you hear? Does that banner still wave, o'er
the land of the free and the brave?
Are there homes for unwanted children in your town,
or do you have a town because you have a prison now,
good jobs, kids graduate highschool,
easy, union, we *** 'em guard jobs,
all kinds of jobs, prisons, boy,

a big one, can revive the real estate market in a town.

Jail is more than just a word, it's a sentence.

Many of the world's greatest Leaders throughout our tumultuous history have;
Many of  the insightful Revolutionaries in stink hole and glory hole countries have;
Many of the oppressed, disenfranchised and cheated also have.
Look to Lenin, Mandela, Gandi, Nehru, Havel, Bhutto, Ceausescu, Charles I, Papadopoulos, Lady Jane Grey, Louis XVI, Marcos, Milosevic, a pile of Mohameds, Mussolini, Nicholas II, Pinochet, Saddam, Marie Antoinette, Pope Clement V, Selassie, Baghdadi, Duvalier, and, let's not forget the author of Mien Kampf, Adolph the Tenderizer.
And what do they all have in common?
Some, before they became boldly notorious, and others, after they became criminally notorious.
Some, looked out their window and saw platforms being erected.
Others witnessed gallows, guillotines. posts and walls.
They all got some time in:
PRISON. GAOL. JAIL. COOLER. LOCKUP.  DUNGEON. KEEP. PEN. BASTILLE. CLINK. STATESVILLE. SLAMMER. STOCKADE. THE BIG HOUSE.
You get the idea.
His time will come.

let’s both play a game of truth, you can tell me lies
and i won’t know because i can’t look you in the eyes

suicide is dangerous
because i will die alone
so please just shoot me in the head and hold my hand before i go

and i hope i rot in hell
and i hope i rot in jail
and i hope my death is celebrated
and let’s go back to the hotel

i can crumble in the bathroom
drink wine that’s mixed with ****
and i wanna hear you in the bedroom
so i can remind myself that nobody will miss me.

i hope i rot in hell
i hope i rot in jail

these thoughts that i have are enough
to excuse my ****** in the court
please just say it was self defense
please make it make sense.

I scratched lyrics into the walls of this dump they call joint
finally became a tree with branches, wrote new raps every night
working out like crazy, punched my hands into walls
just like oldboy, then i became steel, endlessly tough

as my lucky number, this eight
tizzops became more popular, but never an other
sticking out my chest, ******* away all stress
albanians against serbs, greeks against turks

everything broken, everything in shards
but then comes Marissa, and she's calming me
i'm getting calm, getting calm, become
the old tizzop again, a ******* and thief

but everybody likes me, I remain --
tizzops, spreading fistfights like the Klitschko's
and I'm the most faithful, when I really feel love
not just talking about females, all my brothers

get nuttin but respect, their souls are wit me
most peeps live rushing lives, in our rushing times
they talk briefly, cause they don't know their inner
i'm not ridiculing them, cause they simply lack the words

they are lost and questions are flowing out of their ears
since they have no brothers or sisters to lean on
lifestyle like a frantic slalom, but I'm not wit 'em
putting stickers on the franchise, just to get by

I dominate every day; like the magic of the night
my raps are mania for me, me, and for me
cause I love and I have *** with my lyrics
forever being a chaser: where is Jason, baby?

without him, I won't make it through the night
life is infinity like eight, I feed you a knuckle sandwich
can you hear my c**k whistling? dem are *******-songz
straight out of my *****, suddenly millions of fanz

homeless, no
metropolis without a home
blaring and clinking and laughing
lights sharp like daggers
me and strange men—and
you
blinding
motorcycle

red, yellow, purple, neon
all blurs together
then, music, like iceland, like
a flooded jungle, drowning
I let go,
take me away

you are my key,

---

gun in hand
orchestra in other
and bach and beethoven in between
I'm sure we heard the same organs that day
but you, other hand on bible
prayed

why hadn't I?

my actions will have consequences
.

---

my only chance

test after test
failure after failure
higher
and
higher
suffocating desperation
I
grab on and
never
let go

**** you, and
I'll
be

free