i can't believe i came across this today,
but i am certain did...
   an experience so vague i couldn't believe,
i actually experienced dyslexia,
call it quasi call it pseduo... but it was very
much akin... from the book's narrative...
but not from the footnotes, i read the footnotes
at perfect cognitive speed, but perhaps
returning to the narrative i did experience
a slack of the + (add) of how words are
dissected and quickly put back together...
  yes, that other arithmetic with very little
breathing room, yes, that thing without
a soul... the word... or god...
    i turned custard brain, fudge...
     i felt like watching the gymnastics at
the para-olympics... and if i was going for a cheap
joke / english black humor i'd probably
laugh at that... but since this is the most
perfect ideal, i can't only make that comparison.

and so it was, i sat there doing nothing productive,
nothing... counting sheep to encourage
day-dreaming...
       so i said: 'i'll read a book', like i might do
on the whim in my grandparent's house
(one of the many reasons i decided to be "canadian" -
and establish a firm belief in bilingualism -
since if i didn't speak the tribal tongue
i wouldn't be rummaging in my grandfather's
library... and stealing books from him...
  well, exporting them to england, where he said
on my last visit: your library is bigger than
mine, isn't? well... it can fill a double-bed
   and be stacked at about 300cm up...)
    maybe the fact that being immersed in the tribe:
polish on the radio, on the television,
the fact that i can be without the internet for
weeks on end and have no quick-canvas outlet for
my earned tongue is the reason i could read
Kraszewski's* Dei Ira / bozy gniew / god's wrath...
    (there is too much subtle differences between
capital iota and little-town lambda -
   or why iota had to have the dot above it, anyway) -
so dei ira looks better... which is why i'm
not orthodox about using capital instances all the time...
   what a whirlwind...
         but prior to that i was watching
a david jacoby film - love is the devil: study for
a portrait by francis bacon...
                                         and all i could think of:
what marvel, to have a **** shoved up your ***
and speak so beautifully...
  have such a vast array of narratives...
     i can only assume that experiencing **** ***
gives you the other man's **** shoved into
your mouth that acts like a tongue and speaks
      so many truths as could be possible,
as in Freudian dream: when a woman wears a hat...
a talking ****** on her head from slurping
at the vaginal grotto of another woman...
     such a marvel though, homosexuality, esp.
the type of homosexuality that has art to express
rather than a civil partnership, civil rights...
  i mean, i could watch this stuff for days and never
yawn or need to watch protests and marches...
  just the image of what is best described
   john william waterhouse's
   painting hypnos and thanatos...
      i can't help but see it like that...
         francis plays the female role, his model the evident
dominant male... and sure, francis having his
**** punctured for what could be best described
as diarhhea either side of the equator does so...
it's as if he is eloquent enough / intelligent to allow
this to happen, for another man to speak through
him somehow... the model's phallus in francis' ****
becomes the model's tongue in francis' mouth...
    which becomes the stage for hypnos and thanatos...
in that francis' tongue becomes a phallus in
the mind of the model: and it whispers him nightmares
in his sleep... a vicious cycle indeed...
           that's the homosexuality that's highly regarded
by me, not the confetti functional type that
    exploits science and social norms and can no longer
lend itself to art, to transcending the taboo...
      with homosexuality divorced from art...
i can't see anything profound by gays from now on...
i really can't... if there is no art in this deviant
love, no art is worth being expressed by this
once glorious realm that has grovelled into the gutter...
so let's start once more: with Onan!

and everyday i awake wake with only one identifiable
fear: will i not write a single verse as of today?
it's not a case of a single day encapsulating my
fear, but that that crux day: furthered into a silence
that can't compensate the act of writing with
anything, other than sleep... i just can't seem
to smarten up concerning this very rational phobia...
    and having said that: here is the incision mark
denoting an interlude, and how: what are originally
intended to be of enso quality, cannot
   stand up to the biological tick-tock of needing
the loo...
     and do i think o'keefe's music foundation
by children is so much better than the original
done by tool concerning the song forty six & two?
yes, yes i do... just look at the kid on the bass guitar,
the fact that bass guitar is allowed to state a layer
of cake just above drums to set the rhythm
means the rhythm guitar doesn't have to solipsistic
******* and scale the everest of solo...
   it can remain in the rhythm section,
actually be worth a rhythm,
   the guitar doesn't need to overload into a solo...
the vocals belong to that domain...
   as long as the bass guitar is allowed to be heard
(unlike in metallica) - then i must be tone deaf!
revise me!
                    jazz knew the importance of every instrument,
and the need to be spontaneous, but also
the need to be anti-synchronisation,
  and therefore anti-muddle tsunami of:
all together now!
            n'ah, **** that **** (yes, the Vulgate is
coming along, i like the pooch, i don't care what things
i might say, the rude growl-bark is coming along:
so we can admire him licking his *****, and for no
other reason he's coming):
as in the birth of sexes... which the animals don't
seem to comprehend that much intently...
                 i can't like my ******* or **** one off...
but i know i can abstract a woman into
a hand and just pretend it's me doing the ****
crap with her... than myself included,
   or as i might add: never drink or *******
before the mirror... soon enough your reflection
becomes a bit odd, not because of what you do,
but because you hide so much perplexity before
you in Lucifer's daylight with which
  the moon Narcissus governs the moods...
that you start to look at your actual shadow
   with more clarity and fact...
  looking in the mirror is the reverse of looking
at your shadow under a street-lamp at night...
the mirror sort of becomes a shadow...
             the form becomes a bit (ha ha, what
an exagerration) vague... i look into
a mirror and i am but looking into shadow...
                   and i can't exactly recognise the eyes,
or make our geometric approximations
of a skull...
                      it's not even a case of a poor Yorrick
blah blah.
    or as the new governing body put it:
there are to be no mirrors contained within
the gates of Pandemonium...
        each to his own shadow, each to his own abstract...
   for the shadow will be deemed the new mirror...
   the new found glacier of, yes:
when salt water freezes, comes pure white floating
on the oceans... but must you freeze fresh water
and there's this matrix...
as in icecubes...
       dropping from a vendor machine...
and i knew i shouldn't have digressed so much,
but then again, if there was no ****** tick-tock
       rebellion, i probably wouldn't have revealed this much...
with ancient lore...
    who'd use the word Pandemonium these days,
if you're merely trying to call it: the Houses of Westminster...
well sure, accusation due: i prefer
a bunch of kids feeding me a nostalgia over a song
i heard aged 14... such is the power of the song 46 & 2
done to a... wait wait...
  i was talking about bass guitars and jazz...
(i could never get to like rap...
            i liked when the blacks deconstructed classical
music, but they did after: i'll never like,
mainly people of blackies and that general fanfare
of rap feeding tribalism) -
          the greatest aspect of jazz:
that on some recordings there's a chance to hear all
the instruments having a solo moment...
you'll hear a quintent solo:
  the piano, the drum, the saxophone, the horn,
the double-bass solo... each doing a solo...
not some erectile dysfunction of rock music from the 1980s...
i mean: each one will do a solo...
  and **** me, that's grand... and given there's no vocals
makes it all the better... but where, the ****, can i hear
jazz music being kept with such high regard as i
might find mozart pickled and even mummified
     to suddenly rise again and compose like i might hear
it on classical.fm... maybe acid jazz killed it...
   i can't seem to hear of one place where i can hear
the range of jazz music i have in my collection...
which probably mean's i'm lazy and don't fiddle about
with the radio fm and am channels... to "look" for jazz...
  i'm all applause though: jazz allowed for
deconstruction of classical music and paved the way
for the current state of polyphony in plateau...
    meaning: too much drum, too much ump-pst-ump-pst...
   jazz paved the wsay from orchestra,
   and yes, maybe because it was too impromptu
as it was necessary, that there was no jazz composer...
  there could have been no jazz script... no pre
           to what was otherwise alway and only: uno...
a once...
    sure Thelonious Monk did use an orchestra at some time...
  but if only someone decided to do a solipsism
and write out jazz like mozart wrote out
      concerto... but no... jazz descending from on high
and invoking african villages could never do to
its practitioners the deadly fate of breeding a jazz
composer...
                   it was the communal idea, the musketeer
unus pro omnibus, omnes pro uno:
   you could never allow a silent dictator like
a mozart dictating to a throng of people contained
within an orchestra... which later made the once
silent dictators very very vocal... speeches in Munich
alike...
           the fact that jazz has no script,
and the fact that if someone tries to play a Miles Davis
from script... is completely an ***...
     put him on a donkey (backwards)
                     donning a sanbenito and lynch him
to the nearest traffic junction to **** louder than
a car klaxon... that will do the trick...
       they did bother to script led zeppelin though...
    maybe it was the stiff competition that did it:
jazz. airy... breezy... but what a quick moment it was...
i'm almost jealous of the beat poets experimenting
with jazz musicians... but then i'm not:
i like to think of them as parasites...
   you know... those things feeding of spontaneity...
parasites... or dare i say: plagiarising leeches...
plagiarisng what? well, not the content, the context:
feeding of jazz spontaneity... not working from
old composers like Milton or Dante...
thank god for Ezra Pound and Sylvia Plath.

seems i have a ****** for a larynx...

perhaps i just seem to mean: i am a firm believer
in bilingualism... perhaps that's based on
some sort of religiosity,
    and let me tell you: it's born with
a schismatic nature, siamese, but not like a
siamese twin, in that it really needs a surgeon...
  it's a nucleus that's inherently schismatic...
i can't blame the english nation being
so lazy in its multicultural ethos,
i quiet like it: i don't live in a ghetto...
but forgetting my native tongue just so i could
sing a national anthem with conviction?
na'ah, that's not me...
            we'll come to Kraszewski's rex piast
in a minute, and it really was a genuine
experience of placebo dyslexia,
the one on the other side: should i have written
zilch...
      i believe in something quiet Canadian...
i don't believe in isolated communities,
   or ghetto tactic... i am a firm disciple of the advent
of bilingualism: forget the *** for just one day,
your genitals won't suddenly drop off with
gangrene scabs... you don't need a doctor
to say that...
                i mean: bilingualism as a concern
for incorporated culture, and the culture you were
born in... why can't these people just care to juggle
three testicles?
                   oh, elaphantisis got in the way...
sure, two oranges and a watermelon: makes sense...
no!
      have mutual respect, you come to me sprechen
Piast i'll speak Piast to you...
   well: given that polish and polish aren't that far apart,
i'd feel inclined to utilise
           idiosyncratic lingo...
   lingua genesis...
                children are so much easier to utilise than
angels: they have yet to experience anything at all
on the Socratic basis...
            so if i talk Piast to me, you will know what
i'm talking about?
     it doesn't matter if you do... i chose to be
a library, rather than an encyclopoedia of immigrants...
    there's not need to test me on general knowledge:
the stuff i "know" already gives me membrane...
     i respect both the culture of my birth and the skin
i am sometimes told to make sure is called tattoo,
and what i see before me, and quiet frankly:
i see nothing before me... a turban here,
    a sausage & mash there, a pint of guinness there,
noodles elsewhere... all in all: globalisation
and the elements: earthquakes... torandos...
   there isn't much to see in a poly-ethnic society...
there are too many major changes taking place
in a pyramid of non-ethnic ascriptive
         non-this-and-that pawns...
  it's not even painful: just a bit disgusting to watch...
  and yes i have access to a voult of monochromatic
society:
   you know how many ethnic minorities i spotted
in a train station in Warsaw? three...
two asians and one black woman...
              i haven't experienced the cold winters in Poland:
but i knew there was a limit...
         only about three apaches in a crowd of
albinos... which doesn't translate as:
    i was somehow content, it just meant
that most signs in Warsaw are written with a bilingual
bridge of Polish... and Ukranian Cyrillic...
plenty of Ukranian Mecca-bandits, for sure,
     but that's the end of the line with what
western Europe is doing to itself...
        every time i come back from Poland
i'm smeared with a rainbow of variety,
   it's either: i want to **** all these girlies
or i want to **** them... mostly the former,
  but you get the picture of experiencing the alternative
of the western experiment: since marxist economy
was "doomed" or simply expected to fail...
the economy finally seems reasonable with safety
for the old and the pension plans...
that marxist-culturalism had to emerge... if we are not
on the same dough plan of being content with a table and
a chair: might as well say we're all prone to don
a ******* afro.
                ***** are naturally curly, no?
going back "home" is always a weird experience, i tend
to read books there... like Kraszewski (who,
even the locals **** as being an unbearable bore
and joke that Joyce is easier read)... with his dei ire...
my grandfather just dropped it into my hands
as an experiment, thinking i wouldn't read it...
    well, in terms of translation Kraszewski is a myth-broker...
no one would read him,
  meaning: i'm kind of grateful that poles
seem to sorta: not exist, when it comes to citing examples
that include modernity and the history being
formed... i could sorta believe it if i were Estonian
or Lithuanian, or from Liechtenstein...
          but we're talking about a place with a large
enough population to be a major player in some
wordly conflict... Poland isn't that small...
    but yet it appears like it appeared from
the 18th century onwards... a state partitioned...
    and what i love about remaining tactifully bilingual?
i can talk about my native in a "colonial" tongue...
hence the " " definition: self-acquired...
             that's why i became spastic-fantastic reading
Kraszewski's rex piast - nothing came in,
i lost all trace of syllable construction, i read the books
so slowly i had one page done in about 10 minutes:
prolonging my musing of world powers, thrones
and crowns on a toilet...
        *******... another interlude.

can anyone see the, dodo project? i really just see a dodo project, yes: eine dodo projekt... i'm white, i'm male: can i be allowed to express these nouns in a pronoun, or am i schizophrenic prone? it seems i c

once rastafarianism entered language ploys with wittgenstein's language games in mind it misplaced pronouns, existentialists just dittoed the signifying moral singular with the un-signifying immoral plural; like i was partly holocaust bound, ha ha (example); cherub and a scotch bonnet of my opinion tingling a contest of: chilli v. pepper v. horseradish. let's just say i'm a plasterer rather than i.q. me as a drinker. slaps in chequers on a bench to sober up momentarily.*

trust the saxon, trust the saxon to speak worse german
than the bavarian, and entrust german to the turk
above the saxon; trust the audacious saxon to leave the alphabet's
diacritic out, to spell like a roman would, from the celtic netherlands of gloom
in scotch egg on a couch, the potato of them all,
trust them with audacity and vocabulary  to conquer the world:  
relieving us norse with ****** never mind
the geese of brazil; exact roman care for all dwindles and fibrous excesses,
conquer the world what have you,
at least you have black skin and opera sunsets
while i have white skin and grey clots of 7pm in september,
or as the censors announced:
rather my vanity than the proof of god,
rather me than you in the minotaur's prison of winding zigzag vocabulary;
you're left politico correct i have three thousand
longboats waiting, you're right i have the same number
awaiting wind and sail. trust the saxons among bavarians to do the following:
but you have the caribbean and that's worth more than kenya
in a 100m sprint. you have the caribbean and i'm african,
nuance the scandinavian proust waging war with
a burnt toothpick not giving enough warmth. each me of the lost tribe walks asking:
blondish in the sea i dare you to walk and reason
the heraclitean suburbia of the river of emptied housed-in arsons worth a life.
come alaskan winters come!
trust the saxons to conquer the world without a holy implied for empires
and lost tracts in order that the romans might utilise proper a and proper o
while the saxons in **** with normans and celts said:
we'll roman-speak about the amazon girlies while our girls party out
a craft of whitened cotton for champagne ship-sailed virginity!
trust the saxons to speak worse german thank turks in order to bind by migration
an island as a ship, and sail away sail away wondering
why the roots of other european nations used the goggles to speak
as much microscope as microphone when accenting
and, in so doing accepted dialectics rather than a pompous excess of fibrous ginger plastic
known as dialects: in england dialectics is known as dialects - caged owls elsewhere
didn't coo coo but mooed with gags in nostrils sneezing when snorkelling:
we say error in sussex and say wok cumin seed sizzle in essex;
close enough to be a cockney in hackney rhymes up a mango.

Tall men think of robust ladies
Shorter ladies dream of length,
Toothless people fantasize
Of mandibles of white, bright strength.
Porcine women lust for thinness
Breast less girlies long for *****,
Dissatisfaction fills the air
It's greener grass or down the tubes.

Black man hopes for pale complexion
White girls bake to raise a tan,
Brown eyed lassie's envy blue-ness,
***** lesbian's, a man.
The wealthy want the easy life
Beggars yearn for cash,
Dissatisfaction's in the air
And mirrors are so trash.

Across the human spectrum far
Mankind wants for more,
The grass is always greener
Looking through another door.
It's bigger, better, brighter, best
The quest is always there
Relentlessly pursued with glee,
Bright eyes and bushy hair.

Results are mixed and varied here
Some reach the holy grail
To watch it slip beyond their grasp
Then founder, fall and fail.
Some teeter on a platform,
Some grasp the prize and run,
Some hit their stride at bounding pace
To see the contest won.

But by and large there's misery
Few climb the road to joy,
Frustration be my brother
Dissatisfaction be my ploy.
Limitation is our lot in life.
Our secret to success
Is to love the mirror warts and all
All other **** ...repress !!

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
23 December 2009
www.worthyofpublishing.com

Us girlies in our
cots, our beds,
rise at the sound of the
morning gunshot.

half past 8, the blinds
bolted shut like
some sort of gilded
prison

put on these socks
now, o
rubbered and friction
you don't want
hepatitis
now.

the bell jangles, no
that must be the phone and
8 foxes of the den
stand in a
line.

phone home will
you, doktor calls with
your paper cup. run like
you're freed and
ceased.

lukewarm water, O
now is she on Lithium?
nine hundred. the
morning gunshot

fires into the
ceiling speakers,
ringing like the
salvation army.

The club is small and dark and hazy
like the veiled comedy of minstrel performers.
Those dingy lights do little for the atmosphere—
dangling hemp from clouds of cigarette smoke.

This hole is filled with the classy of day and the
sassy of night—a real “blue material” kinda crowd.
Harry, the manager, after calling quarter and five,
booked some awful oleo acts just minutes before
“places!”

—The crowd sits on their hands ‘til they’re numb
and lame like the fish they watch flop on the boards.
Two acts down followed by some soot-covered
clown’s lazzo about who’s who and what’s what.

Give me a break! The crowd wants fresh fish to fry—
Girlies in pearlies with spun out legs that tower
the torsos they’re pinned to. Give them that
New York Style Cheese-cakewalk Variety Act!

The listless listeners of this K.A. circuit let out a
snake-like hiss, en masse. (The only show stoppers
are off the billing, stage left at some other club!)
The manager thinks fast like a quick change act—

Harry snatches a prop from the nearest kook—
In a long brown bathrobe, with a broad brown cane.
He hushed the crowd of loud, jeering jerks, in one
swift swoop of his leg-breaking, knockout **** called
The Vaudeville Hook.

and oddly enough, H is the only letter in the alphabet that can accommodate vowels the easiest, and subsequently laughter. well m can too, but it's more of a jolly hmm in between sudden outbursts of h and co.*

and on Sunday i get to read
about a prince moaning
quote: 'at home on my ****'...
oi oi ***** Harry, where the magnum?
call on Clint Klein and head into the eastern woods!
'there be a bowl of spaghetti there waiting for ya'
the leprechaun said.
ah a job, ah a family, ah George the usurper
of attention seeking girlies...
10 years in the army, and then bust,
using a Ouija board to stop being
employed by McDonald's;
but hey! it's Sunday... can't a price have
his day?
              god, this humour is so cheap
                       it's almost gagging
                                  for canned laughter,
             but it ain't getting any, shame,
   and double shame for Fawlty Towers using it,
whatnot and what care for all that "famous"
                  intelligent humour of the British ballot box,
    supposedly... if that **** is intelligent & funny why use
                  such horrid precautions (psst... laziness)?
slapstick does it for me, means i can be intelligent in
other mediums.

These girlies aint real
Claim they fufilled only when they on the pills
Claim they got it but they missin some bills
Claim they higha when they on some loud
But when they confront all you hear is them meows
**** is you saying
Ain't gotta slang to show you my deal
Don't **** with these cons
I'm shooting these names
These girlies is talk like you run up just for the bronze
Play you in a room full of ******* and all you hear is the yawns
I swear I see you dudes when I mowing my lawns
Snakes in my backyard like you committing a fraud
**** outta here with the weak **** I'm sick of ya bars
i’ll eat you ******* and yall multiply so i’ll never starve
have my heart in my sleeve
you wookies got ya hearts in ya cars
possessions all you living the norm
i bet that **** is corn, you say you cold but you straight looking for warmth
throwing these shots like if these bullets were thoughts
king of these clowns they aint ever been down
you know they cats when they hear me coming they bounce
you know they cats when they shoot me through fake accounts
you know they cats when **** up the deala for the ounce
you know they cats when they roll deep in the city and aint claiming they ground
they flossin what they wish they had, i hear you want them discounts
like whats up your talk?
you just lost and found and soon to be shot with em rounds
with these words so i would back down
im with the funnies so im the clown of this town

While out walking with my girlies

Felt a feeling in my curlies

No need to say just what

Had made that feeling in my ....(nether regions shall be used here....but feel free to rhyme away)

I ran into the nearest store

I knew what I was looking for

No need now to name the brand

You'll all know later where I stand

It's obvious who came to visit

You never really want to miss it

Unless you're trying for a kid

Then everyone knows what you did

No need now to be so coarse

But later riding on a horse

I felt a sudden urge to swim

It came to me just on a whim

So off I went out to the pool

Standing there just like a fool

My Esther Williams gene arrived

And on the count of three....I dived

I was great, I did astound

Thankfully..no sharks around

But as I finished in the water

I thought...well now I think I oughta...

Go out running for a while

In four minutes I'd done a mile

Incredibly, I had a feeling

For a cup of good Darjeeling

So I took a small time out

Before I had a boxing bout

Now, this I thought I'd never done

But then again, it could be fun

I was surprised, for I'm quite meek

I only hoped I didn't leak

Remeber when this whole thing started

It wasn't cause I thought I'd farted

Now, truth be told I cannot lie

I'd never give these things a try

But on tv....I saw an ad

And women do these with their pad

So, Playtex is the brand I like

And now I'm off to ride my bike!!!

So slap one on to be athletic

Then you won't be so pathetic

Buy one box and get two free

Playtex is the brand for me!!!

philosopher says when he sees v: aha! a future parabola theory given that the romans chiseled v when they meant u!
poet says when he sees v: veer from w into saggy "missing the horizon attachment origin" with a u, could have been a ***** of B... we're here to make sounds... we're not here to make words into poster boys girlies french braiding their hair into ideas and lipgloss.*

but you had to face the 110m hurdles,
i had to become a don quixote, fencing with shadows,
shadow boxing as if simply training,
you could run from dyslexia and the abuse hurled at you,
you had to face an external battle,
i’m facing an internal battle... phantoms and imagery...
you had the external ahead of you, with a wife to be listened to,
i have... no body!
myself and only myself,
of course i am like an elevation of rat... i’m a carnivore
that trips to the supermarket for a 70cl of whiskey
every night, hunting my way to a state of sedatives used,
i know no other drug with or without a prescription...
**** saturday night... it can go to hell...
yes i will get a council flat ahead of the scamming ******
that are like ant queens on the reproductive conveyor belt
(believe me... write like a homosexual to get the g-spots!
have homosexual misogyny in your underwear!)
that’s a muslim donning niqab curtains seller 1.7 (seven being the children),
curse of the economy! get them politicised, angry self-believers
only self-believing by faked passports and fake health-wise ills
from the natural contenders to wear the boxing gloves...
who said things like trevor mc lure: you might remember me
from such existential paradoxes as:
punch my cancer into a liver, punch my cancer up,
liver me up paddy, scots ahoy... ah... what a tagline trendy,
i could almost become an adidas’ stripes of america or malaysia...
so there’s me buying my usual buddy... ‘no coke today?’
‘no, spare coke left, i’ll have this pint of bach to share with the bottle
of whiskey... mind your inquisitive whiskers of the tongue...’
she pretended suicidal tendencies all along...
started cutting veins en route arteries for a fake sing-along cry-along...
made no sense, i slept with my clothes on...
women are crafty bishops... they don’t do communion
but get to craft a second birth certificate of confirmation,
the womb that turned into a cross... we were all squeezed out from
that geometric that said oh oh zero o hay ‘oo;
first spot the letter u... then w... then h... the third letter i’m not familiar with...
too many papyrus scripts burning... can’t spot the latinised version,
i think i’ll need to brew and thus ferment a pint of whiskey to get this one...
just to get 1, 2, 3, 4 up in scales, should have been written as
1cm and exasperation(noun).
i had something originally... but then i decided to digress...
it was like a full house poker sequence... but without cards
and more humans than could be required for believability...
it’s almost... it’s almost like i was jealous feeding the sight
of a man in mid-life looping the thought of cool with the thought
of being cool when adorned with childish ambition to have it
as a child having only bought it as a semi-wrinkled naiveness
that worked its solipsistic magic of: gone are the days
of ***** magnet... come the days of a badger ******* it;
give way... here comes oral *** mummified - mum’s the word
filing is the action... testosterone does not equate itself as ****** *****...
down below australia did a roulette action and decided to
geographically spread its legs for the sire of cocksure ***** india...
enter... the mongolian harmonica trick of the index and lip motorboat:
baba hamza baba hamza ali ali contra v.!
so? i sharpened my u into a v... are you sure you
don't understand the question: vat iz veh vay?

I sit here at the crossing of the ways amid and with the passing of so many days,I rest awhile.
No hurly burly,girly, girlies here, just me,the man,
sitting sketching out another plan, and one that won't **** me to another stretch of lonely roads
or heavy loads to carry
tarrying too long,going just that extra mile
for one more smile or kiss pressed like wilted flowers on my wanting lips.

I sit
still,
the crossing of the crossroads will occur and there I'll be
watching each and every wrinkle that appears and when the mists that roll around me clear
and the fear of moving on is gone
I'll go
back
to travel once again the empty streets and this time with the plan I have
I hope to meet
on equal terms someone like me,whose stomach used to churn at any thought of being any closer than arms length.

Sitting here silently,
weaving strength into my hands
to gather up my bag and with a certain sense of swag
swagger on.

Yessir I have felonies
and melodies both melancholy and miraculous
paragraphiculous and ridiculous
stole some shows and some thunder
thighs like two day old pudding slap 'em and ride the waves
sike
drink up some dishwasher detergent chased with lead paint
not for the faint of heart just the stupid as ffffffffuuuuuu when under the right noises
and boyses and girlies all singing their swirlies
and twirlin' 'round like pinwheels of tin steel
ten feet off of the ground
hillsides like pill boxes full of coins and coincidences
unmeasured instances of grief and shame without a blame
no face to force hate just mirrors to show fate
and the stars in the sky with their winking teasing ways all
fall to the ground
will be dead within days
but they are not forsaken, maybe only spared
to avoid seeing the moment when sunny didn't share
and all went dark like absence of creation
animation of fears all mixed and respun into dope dubstep
to be grinded and mashed
and spat back up into the trees

When I push the pedal to the metal theres no limit I **** space...
my movement never constant just can't stay in one place...
So I zoom zoom through the poom poom...
leaving ****** scenes in bedrooms..
given girlies the boom boom...
Explode...As i unload...
round after round clip after clip...
as their bodies shake and twitch lick after lick...
Sounds of *** remind me I'm some ****...
And why the **** Im i even sittin here doin this...
With no remorse in my eyes..
I **** em until they die...
pound after pound
clap sound after clap sound...
pelivis agianst *****
we know which is the meanest..
Wit no protection Im at war..
with criminals who only *****...
Thier war crimes they get paid for...
then the death toll I get blaimed for..
As i leave them slayin to rest...
Some label me the best...
others just another *** that clucks at all the hens..
Can't read my metaphors that means ***** alot of women...
The reaction is i get a lot of practice so i can be to half bad..
So dont sign up for tryouts get cut then get mad...
because you haven't had the amout of practice i had..
See I know all types of tricks..
lights skin, brown skin, dark skin, i got a whole lot of picks.
The ins and the outs..
when to drive in and when to pull out...
Squirting your insides against my stomach...
you panic..
instantly proclaiming to your maker...
that Iam your ******....
the one who drove to fast that your waves decided to crash...
all over me..milking your sweet nector...
as you lay life lessly twitching..the side effects of a killing..
so i place the pedal to the metal i tend to burn rubber...
one hand around the neck of the wheel and the other around my lovers...

Life is like a box of chocolates.
I didn't know I would get
a brown eyed beauty
with a nice lil' *****
and she's cool see,
she been on her own vibes since
before the age of 5,
then we vibed.
now we live.
she decided I was her guy,
I decided to pursue this fly
cutie with a 'tude like, "shoot me,
she
has me hooked like a tuna at sea,
tamed me like a tiger and oh so lovely!"
Now I got 5 on it
thinkin' 'bout doublin' down
she wavin other girlies like,
"bye haters,
see ya laters
Im wit my man right now, bout to get"
XxXxXxXXxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXX

So... Fa' Real Fa' REAL...
What Is The Deal...
With... " Keeping It REAL "... !?!

It's Just An EXPRESSION...
That Has NO Test Pressing...
of Things Some Be STRESSING...
It's Message Be Sending... !!!!!

I'm Just Asking The Question...

Because What It's INVENTED...
Seems To Be An EXCUSE...
For DUD MOVES People Choose...

I Prefer... Keep It TRUE... !!!

But DON'T Get It Confused...
I Do... KNOW The Coup... !!!!!!

What I SEE As TRUE...
May NOT Work for YOU... !!!

Which... Leads Me Back...
To The Question At Hand...

Cos' The Issue I Have...
Is With How People Choose To...
Use It Like... " VOODOO "...

Some....

METAPHYSICAL, MYSTICAL...
... PRINCIPLED RITUAL...

That... When Undertaken...
Some Would Say Is...
.... " SPIRITUAL ".... ?!!!?

"Okay calm yourself V,
that's clearly too deep,
fa' peeps in the streets !"

"You know, I agree,
let me change up the theme !"

Now Apparently...
Fa' Some... " Keep It Real "...
Means They Can ROB and STEAL...
Like It's Their DAILY MEAL... ?!?

And NOT Just In The Streets...
I Mean... Corporate Peeps... !!!!!

How REAL Are The Heads...
of... Financial Trends... !?!

It Would Seem They Conceal...
Rather Than... " Keep It REAL "...
And Could CLEARLY CARE LESS...
About... TRUTHFUL Concepts... !!!

They... " CONCEPTUALISE "...
Clearly DIFFERENT Vibes... !!!!!

More Like... " KEEP IT MINE ! "...

And For Those They DEFINE...
As... " Minds Out of Line "...

The Line They've... DESIGNED...
IS... " KEEP THEM CONFINED ! "...

Just Like The Fine Rhymes...
From... Poetic Minds...
Who Use ALL Their Might...
To Write For The Blind... !!!!!!

Whose Vision of... REAL...
Can Be... Quite SURREAL... !!!

Indeed... Quite BIZARRE... !!!

When REALNESS They Deal In...
Leaves Young BROKEN Hearts... !!!!!

They're REAL Like White Sharks...
That... Hunt In The Dark... !!!
And Seem To LIKE FIGHTS... ?!?
That Leave NASTY Marks... !!!

Because of The Wars...
That People... ENDURE... !!!

Because They Are REAL...
And Are NOT Quick To Kneel... !!!!

Talking of... KNEELING...
When Girlies Be SQUEALING...

How REAL Are They Being... ???

You KNOW What I'm Meaning...
of A... Morning or Evening...
These Girlies Be DEALING...
Like POKER SHARKS... "Scheming"... !!!!!

Of Course There Are GOOD Ones...
Who Deal In... REAL LOVE...

But They Aren't THE ONES...
Who I'm... Speaking of... !!!!!!!

The Ones I Speak of Are REAL...
YEAH... REAL FAKE... !?!?!
NO NEED To DEBATE... !!!

FAKE HAIR...
FAKE EYES...
FAKE NAILS...
FAKE MINDS...

The One Thing That's NOT FAKE...
Is What's... Between Their Thighs... !!!!!

MOST Now Should Wear SIGNS...

"I KEEP IT OPEN,
BUT THERE IS A PRICE !"

And NO I'm NOT Joking...
These Girls Are REAL BROKEN... !!!!!

So I'll Speak On The Guys...

REAL Gangsta' or PRANKSTER... ?!?
These Days You Will FIND...
An ABUNDANCE of SLACKERS...
Whose Gangsta' DEFINES...

A... BIG CROCK of LIES...
And Being Called WANKSTERS'... !!!

When It Comes To The Women...
These WANKSTERS' Contrive...
To DROP The... RIGHT Lines...

VERBAL or WHITE... !!!

To Get Women SMOKING...
The WRONG Kind of Pipes... !!!

THIS Time... I AM JOKING...
Quick Question … ” AM I ? "...

My Rhymes Are Inclined...
To... Summarise Times...
And Human Designs...
That People Live By...

UNLIKE... " Keep It Real "... !!!

That's Just A Cool Line...
BEHIND Which People... "Hide"...

How About... KEEP IT RIGHT... !?!
Or As Said... KEEP IT TRUE... ?!?

Well Let Me Just Tell You...
My Theme's... KEEP IT ME... !!!!!

If You CAN'T Keep It There...
Then Folks... TELL ME WHERE... ?!?

TOO MANY... "Conceal"...
And See MORE APPEAL...
In KEEPING It...................... FAR.....
From Who They... REALLY ARE... !!!?!!!

So... Buy Into STARS...
That HAVEN'T Seen MARS... ?!?
Or... Planets AFAR... ???

Because They're RIGHT HERE...
HUMANS... Get It CLEAR... !!!!!

Who Walk Down The Road...
of... ACTING For SHOW... !!!

How REAL Can They Be... ???
EVEN When They're... OFF SCREEN... ?!!!?

I Believe KEEP IT CLEAN...
And Now... KEEP IT ME... !!!

So NOBODY Can TRY...
To Say That... I LIED... !!!

Because... What I Now FEEL...
Is MOST PEOPLE... "Conceal"...
And DON'T Like To REVEAL...

So What Is The Deal... ?
... When They Say...

... " KEEP IT REAL "... !!!

As tha vinyl goes round and round
Put my vocals on the sound
Make minds astound
Like they blazed a pound
spiritually buried in a ground
Many awaited so many hated debated
But ya only created
A bigger badder mc flawless the rawest
To ever touch a beat leave ya off ya feet
Ya in high heels drink Dom P no spills
Ice chills windmills sittin' on the 22s rims
Tilted brim far for slim lights dim
Smoke sessions prepare for the aggression
When fools hear my sound they'll start a recession
Lyrically insane off my brain
No pain no gain pushin' weight in differ states made estates hold ya pate
Cuz it's bound to get popped off ya soft
As Doughboy check my rhyming ahoy
Gettin' girlies made joy don't act coy
My apparatus the baddest yours the saddest
A **** without Gladys
I'm on the Midnight train to Georgia
Got some led for ya
Caps I peelin' more than onions
Leavin' nigguhs holy like funions
Funk baby born in the eighties
I'm the shadiest of the shady
Hate me now but it's all gravy
Burnin' emcees like Monks thai skunk
Put the funk
In my mind always on the grind
Watch for one time and I'm
Never gonna die from this
Respect ya royal highness
Check my pedigree ya gonna wanna
re-re-re rewind this







****** stop pretendin'
The masquerade is over
I thought David Porter told ya
The massacre just begun
When my guns bust fools begin to run
Into four-corner hustlers street jugglers
And stick up mugglers
Bounce my **** I'm the hardest to hit
Guard ya **** this a blow harder than Tyson
Sweep up the street call me Dyson Slicin'
Competition to pieces for stereo thesis
As my brain increases droppin' feces
That cant eradicate or debate
End up bitin' they own death date
Ivs' pumpin' from the leds dumpin'
Blood clots bumpin' body humpin'
This is a take over I don't pull til the nut is over
Never see me sober refer to me as Jehovah
Positionin' plots when emcees touch the spot
End up mad shot???
Askin' who shot ya? Nobody knows
It's the Htown ****** raw and hyper
160 kills with out the trickle of a sweat
I make more threats than a terrorist
George Bush couldn't even stop it
Mass mayhem slam opponent til they open
Dilate pupils after the loot principle
***** tricks haters can *******
Neck slit now ya can't talk ****
No love I'm in it Cuz im greedy
Don't feed the needy I'm black as Nefertiti
Yall can't see me
Even if yall wanted too
Chumps talkin' like they smoke me
But I'll have stunned more than Haitian Voodoo



Reverse back to the verse
I throw ya in you cursed
Watch me put them rhymes in a hearse
Sound the eulogy
Cuz none get next to me
Im swift as bruce lee
Kicks hard like Chung Li born in 83
Add the 4 more ya get *******
Im crazier than Cujo these putos
Dont want it on the mic
You aint murderin nothin'
but ya own sight
I brailled ya envision changed your decision
Whatin' n guessin' a prediction?
Is it me or is it the way the
Way my rhymes please ?
Bow to ya knees
I make the crowds freeze
Even ya fans say bless you! when i sneeze
I bet you still wear dungerees or high heels with tight capris
I thought ya heard  im the rappin' don Shapiro
Shine n spin  around haters like disco
Sip old school Sisqo hit the blunts slow
Let the smoke meditate my mind flow
Learn how to grind ill put  ya on a flat line
Resuscitate your rhymes just to put you back on the flat line
Searchin' for the light im dolemite
My game **** tight know how to write
When ya step to legend im gifted
Young black n hung
I keep ya lifted
Got hoes on the tip of they toes
Just to hear suave flow
Pockets of dough
Thats how it goes
Pistol cocked to ya nose
Ya thoughts are froze i suppose
Dont redeem ya self
My rhymes hittin' so hard
Made the minds deaf
Cuz when ya try to diss me ya diss ya self
The microphone murderer
Aint never left !!!!

Yo everyboy gather around
Hand me the crown
Cuz ya know im King of the ****
My NY freestyles stay lit
TEXAS is where i reign
Home of the ******* up clique
This life i live aint no ****** puzzle
Tryin to figure me out gets gun to ya muzzle
Dont meddle in my ****
Spinnin' out the wombs
From cradle to my tomb
Im hittin' ya curves that go straight
Flows penetrate so hard make girlies mind  *******
Who can relate?
To my skills raws as ever
Goin' in with my raw potato skin
Bust my nut then i leave em blowin in the wind
If ya a hater i gotta mack 10
Extra clips on my hips ****** done then i dip
Listen closely to the story being told
I wont grow old never will i fold
Platinum or Gold knots
check the tic toc
My money on clockwork  
rolex watch
Worth 50 gran an on the other hand
Is the microphone
Turn the amps up mic up
Leave crowds minds blown
From nut being shown my tone
Is laid back these nigguhs
Spittin' is wayyy wack
While you pushin' Honda im in a Maybach
No frills only the real i spit so you can feel
Givin' head aches to radio station
Cant tune me out im like exacerbation
Crush my opponent everytime he bust a rhyme
They give up even before they heard mine
Intimator from dope originator
Now im the terminator eliminator
Showed up yo party they still didnt play ya
Im old school fool soul filled with blues
Leave my competitiors on front line news
It goes a little like this
This is a replica of a Chris this aint a diss
But an address
To you punks who wanna **** around
With the master of this ****
Duck quick or these rounds will put you in the ground
Flat line..........

You Girls Who ... " Play Games" ...
Should Be ... " So ASHAMED " ... !!!!!
of Things That You Do To Get Your Own Way ... !!!
  
You Play With Mens' Minds So Much of The Time ...
That Guys Now Do Things That Aren't So Nice ... !!!!!!
  
Well .....  
This Piece of Prose Is Going To Show ...
  
Girlies' Who TRY ......
  
That Men Like ME ... !!!
Are NOT Those Guys ... !!!!!!
  
Our Minds Are Inclined To Look For The SIGNS ...
Like GREED For CASH And Coc' Head Types ...  
And Those Who Lead A ... DEVIOUS Life ... !!!!!!!!  
  
Those Who Like Coc' ...
Tend To Open Legs ... WIDE ...  
Until Coc' Supplies Become DENIED ... !!!!!
  
TRUST Me Guys Because That's NO JOKE ... !!!
But Some Nowadays Enjoy A Good Smoke ... !!!
  
NOT The .... " GOOD GREEN !?! "
But ... Skunk or Coc' ... !!!
  
I've Been There And Seen These Girlies Get ... " LEAN " ... !!!
  
And Watched Their Moods QUICKLY Change Tune ... !!!!!
  
I've Also Seen Boyfriends Start Hitting The ROOF ... !!!
When Games Women Play Make Them ... LOSE Their Cool ... !!!
  
CROCODILE Tears ...  
Is Where I'll Start First ... !!!
  
A Girl I Once Knew ....
Made My Temper BURST ... !!!
  
I Sexed Her SO HARD ...
  
She Pulled ... THAT CARD ... !!!!!
And MAN That I AM ... !!!
I Apologised ... FAST ... !!!!!
  
But Here Is The Part ...
That ... EXPOSED HER FARCE ... !!!
  
When We Woke Up She Gave Me A HUG ... ?!?
Then ... Spread Her Legs For Some More *** ... !!!!?!!!!
  
What More Can I Say ... ?
She Liked To Play Games ... !!!
  
But Liked The ... ROUGH Stuff ... !!!
  
REMEMBER ... " Some Girls " ...
DO MAKE FALSE Claims And DO CRY **** ... !!?!!
  
ANOTHER I Knew Liked To ARGUE ... !?!  
And YES ENJOYED ... ROUGH Treatment Too ... !!!
  
An ATTENTION Seeker And Female Fool ... !!!
Who Clearly Liked ... Verbal Abuse .... ??!??
  
One Night We Went Out ....
  
Then Simply A Subject We Had Spoke About ...
Made Her Behave Just Like A ... STREET CLOWN ... !!!
  
She Was ... " ACTING UP " ...
Like A ... Child In The Street ... !?!
While I Got In My ... Mercedes ...
  
Her IGNORANT Manner Was BEYOND Belief .... !!!!!!!
  
I Told Her FAST ... !!!!!
  
"Get in the car, you're playing the *** !
Don't think I won't leave you, I'm losing my cool !"  
  
No Wonder SOME Women End Up Black and Blue ... !?!
When They Choose To Use ... CHILDISH Attitudes ... !?!?!
  
Here Are More Exhibits ...  
of How Girls With ... " Tricks " ...
Make .... " DEVIOUS Moves " .... !!!
  
They ......  
Ring From Their Phone ...
When Their ... "Credit's Low" ..
  
Then When You're Cut Off ...
Fellas Know How It Drops ... !!!
  
They Wait ..................................... For YOU TO RING ...  
Then Talk On Your Phone Til' Your Bill Goes ... " Ch... Ching " ... !!!!!
  
Girlies' Like THIS Are So FULL of Tricks ... !!!!!!
  
Now Here's A Story About One of Them ...  
  
She Tells Me One Night ...
  
Her ... Bi-****** Friend ...
Is Having A Drink Up With Some **** Girlfriends ... !!!
  
She Told This ... "Young *****" ....
  
"Invite who you like, women or men !"
  
The ***** Then Told Me ...
  
"I'd REALLY like them !
Her Bi-****** friend and her **** girlfriends,
but inviting men, she couldn't defend,
because of the fact, there'd be drunken women !"
  
Of course I Said To Her,
  
"What's wrong with that koo ?
It's almost as if, you want us all for you !"
  
She confirmed .... " I DO " ...
  
Which ... Just ISN'T Cool ...
And Is NOT REALLY TRUE ... !!!
  
Cos' She Isn't Willing To Give ... " ****** Food " ...
  
She Just Wants ATTENTION ...
From Men She Can ... USE ... !!!
  
They Think They're SO SMART ... !!!!!
  
Well I Hope Their Vibrators ...
Are ... CONSTANTLY CHARGED ... !!!
  
Cos' Men Nowadays ...
Watch These Girls From .................... FAR ... !!!!!
  
See Girls Who Play Games Are NOT All The Same ...
And Aren't All ... GOLD DIGGERS ... !!!!!
  
Some Are Much Worse ... !!!!!
They're ... " DEVIOUS THINKERS " ... !!!!!
  
Who .... Later In Life ...
May Face ... " PAIN and STRIFE ... ?!?
  
When Men Then Resort To ...  
.......... EVIL And LIES .......... !!!!!
  
Just For A Taste .... !!!
of The ... ULTIMATE Prize ... !!!
  
THAT ... SWEET Pair of Lips ...
At The TOP of Their Thighs ... !!!!!
  
They're Doing It NOW ... !!!
  
*******'s Hitting Towns ... !!!  
  
Now This Is NOT GOOD ... !!!!!
  
Girls Now May Get Found With Legs Spread Apart ...
NOT Knowing What Happened When Questions Are Asked ... !?!?!
  
Girls ... DON'T BE A VICTIM ... !!!!!
Because You Have VISIONS of CONTROLLING Men ...
  
You've Got A PROBLEM ... !!!!!
  
Girls ... Play The Game STRAIGHT ...  
Right From THE FIRST DATE Before It's TOO LATE ... !!!!!
  
Keep A CLEAR BRAIN ...
Stay OFF The ******* ... !!!!!
  
I'm Saying I'm SAYING ... !!!
  
Most Men AREN'T Like ME ...
And Will Give You ... PAIN ... !!!!!!
  
Because They're ...  
Now SICK of .............. !!!
  
" Girls Who Play Games " .....

Tall men think of robust ladies
Shorter ladies dream of length,
Toothless people fantasize
Of mandibles of white, bright strength.
Porcine women lust for thinness
Breast less girlies long for *****,
Dissatisfaction fills the air
It's greener grass or down the tubes.

Black man hopes for pale complexion
White girls bake to raise a tan,
Brown eyed lassie's envy blue-ness,
***** lesbian's, a man.
The wealthy want the easy life
Beggars yearn for cash,
Dissatisfaction's in the air
And mirrors are so trash.

Across the human spectrum far
Mankind wants for more,
The grass is always greener
Looking through another door.
It's bigger, better, brighter, best
The quest is always there
Relentlessly pursued with glee,
Bright eyes and bushy hair.

Results are mixed and varied here
Some reach the holy grail
To watch it slip beyond their grasp
Then founder, fall and fail.
Some teeter on a platform,
Some grasp the prize and run,
Some hit their stride at bounding pace
To see the contest won.

But by and large there's misery
Few climb the road to joy,
Frustration be my brother
Dissatisfaction be my ploy.
Limitation is our lot in life.
Our secret to success
Is to love the mirror warts and all
All other **** ...suppress !!


M.

I've seen...
Many an egg dropped by the proverbial hen
then egg becomes number through paper and pen
then greed facilitates the perpetrators of this
with ample incentive to young girls a kiss.

Then kiss unexpectedly leads to *******
and the greedy ******* end with a non-legit son
many of the girlies will attempt abortion
but a few will not do as the ******* tell them.

So the son soon and swiftly becomes an anomaly
while it's elder brother says to daddy "are you proud of me"
the oxbridge acceptance letter filled him up with glee
but the dad knows secretly it's all to do with money.

So the half witted son takes up the mantle of the father
as senility and guilt have finally gripped the latter
the son through drugs and experimentation is madder
his social status dictates,
he'll always climb the ladder.

A few years pass, we're in different situation
the son of senility has got grip o' the nation
shaking wretched and archaic crumbling foundations,
he's shaking the **** all over his poorer realtion.

But the overgrown man-child doesn't know,
that since he took power his brother sits in the cold,
that with all the food he eats, he chews it real slow,
so he can have food for longer, fill that hole.

But does it make it all right at once,
cuz he claims ignorance
or should the people at the top
be people from the bottom,
the ones who looked up,
but got nothing but trod on.

It's impossible to relate,
when you all dissipate,
when your middle class darling,
has a working class date.

So the ******* child doesn't vote,
through bedroom tax lost his home,
Senile son?  Victory of note
fake promises in the matriarchal dome.

Apathy strikes again,
this ****'s impossible to defend,
how can we justify not getting off our *****?
not doing something about all this in the masses?
oh yeah, that's right
although barely know the people at the top,
We've all seen their soles as they've trod on our lots

Ya Know....
I Hear A LOT OF NOISE...
From... IGNORANT BOYS... !!!

About Their Toys...
And ALL Their Ploys...

That Make Them THIS... !!!
And Make Them... THAT... !!!

In Fact Some TALK...
So God ****** MUCH... !!!!!
About IGNORANT Stuff...
That I Wish They'd SHUT...
Their... NOISY Gums... !!!

Before I Cause....
A War That LORDS...
Are FORCED To Pay For.... !!!!!

But When I ABSORB...
Much DEEPER Thoughts...

I Choose To Show POISE...
Around Boys Who ANNOY... !!!
And... Girlies TOO... !!!!

Who Make A LOT OF NOISE...
When They're FULL of Youth... !!!!

As If Their... LOOKS...
Will KEEP Man Hooked... ?!?

Even When Their Pretty ***...
... Can't Even COOK... ?!?

I... Hear A LOT of NOISE...
From... Artists TOO... !!!!!!!!!

Who NEED To See That HUMILITY...
Is A... BETTER Place To Be....
Than Trying To Compete...
Every Time Man Speaks...
About... ARTISTRY... !!!

Because That's WEAK...
And PROVES That They NEED...
To... Continually FEED...
...... “ insecurities “...... !!!!

That CLEARLY Make NOISE... !!!
... " Inside Their Minds "... !!!

Because There Is A VOID.....
That They... Just CAN'T Find... ?!?

Where Noise Is Made...
That They NEED To Abate... !!!!!!
Until It's Time To Hit The Stage...

And PROVE To The World  ....
How GREAT They ARE... !!!

When It Comes To Words...
And HIGH QUALITY ART... !!!

It May Sound PERVERSE... !?!

But SILENCE Is A NOISE...
That... CLEARLY HURTS... !!!
And... CLEARLY ANNOYS... !!!!

Those Who... FEEL...
That They NEED To PROVE... !?!

How HARD They Are... !!!
How SMART They Are... !!!
How SHARP They Are... !!!

When They KEEP SHOWING Cards...
That They've Long Since MARKED... !!!!!

Because... SMART Card Sharks...
KNOW... When To MAKE NOISE...
And... When To Show POISE... !!!!!!!

Because.....

Winning ISN'T Everything... !!!
Making Noise Sometimes...
Just Proves IGNORANCE...
And A Need To Be RIGHT... !!!!!

When Being... “ WISE “...
Means You RECOGNISE...
That Noise Like PRIDE...
Are Things That We NEED TO...

Let..... Subside............................ .........

Give Others Their Due... !!!
Even When You LOSE... !!!!!

And SILENCE Then....
Becomes Your FRIEND...

And WISDOM Becomes...
A Dominion And Kingdom...
Where Noise Is USED...
To... ELEVATE You...

To A Place Where FOOLS...
... CAN'T Try To ABUSE...

Or... CLAIM To BE...
Your Superior... SEE...
....... " HUMILITY ".......

Helps You To SEE...
Where It Is You Be...
In Our Human Breed... !!!

One Who LACKS Poise...
When Others ANNOY...
Because Their... “ Ploy “...
Is To Be The HARE...
To Your.... TORTOISE... !!!!

Well The Story SHOWS...
How... THAT Race Goes... !!!

It's Cool To Let FOOLS...
..... TRY TO ABUSE.....

When You KNOW YOUR WORTH...
... NO WORDS Can Hurt... !!!

When You Choose To OBSERVE...
LISTEN.... And Learn.... !!!

And Make The SMART Choice...

To Make... Less...

...... " Noise "......

Ya Know...
I’m Now Grateful For...
A Number of Things...

Because Life Can Be Raw...
And Provide Bad Stings...

But What I Now See...
Is That Adversities...
In This Life Can Breed...

An... Ability...
To Stand Strong And Be...
A Soul That Can Deal With Reality...

So I’m Grateful For The Sickness...
That Took My Mother’s Fitness...

NOT Because It Made Her Sick... !!!
But Simply... Because of THIS...

Because Multiple Sclerosis...
ISN’T Something Bogus...
Like All of These New P.O.T.U.S... !!!
And Did Help Me To Focus...
On Loving Her Much More...
Than Any Car Made By Lotus... !!!

I’m Grateful For That...
As I Am For Attacks...
That I’ve Had Cos’ I’m Black...
That Have Thickened My Skin...
So That I Do Not Sink...
Into Fighting With Fists...
When It Comes To Racists... !!!

I’m Grateful That I THINK...
And Can Lyrically Hit...
These Fools Like A Brick...
With My Use of Logic...
That Makes Them Think Twice...
Before Choosing To Fight... !!!

And That Also Is Why...
I’m Grateful That I...
Am A VERY TALL Guy... !!!

Because Weak Minds Subside...
When They Look In The Sky...
And Recognise That...
A Big Virge Attack...
May Well Lay Them Flat... !!!

So I’m Grateful To Dad...
And To Mum For The Fact...
That They Worked To Feed Me...
So That I’d Always Eat...
And Not See Plates EMPTY...

So Could Grow Physically...
To Become A Strong Breed... !!!

And I’m Grateful For More...
Than My Words Can Explore...
About Parental Chores...
That My Parents Absorbed...
Even When They Did War... !!!

I’m Grateful To Girls...
Who Felt That Big Virge...
Should Be Part of Their World...

So Then DID Take Their Turn...
To Love And Touch Nerves...
That Made Us Undress...
And Indulge In Some ***... !!!

As I Am To Those Chicks...
Who Chose To Resist...
A Kiss of My Lips...

Because They Chose To Think...
That I Wasn’t Good Looking...
Or Worthy of Booking...
A Night With My ****...

Because Many of Them...
That I Wanted To Bed...
Have Proven To Be...
Stupid Girls With Problems... !!!

Who Were Basically Tricks...
Who’ve Messed Up Their Kids...
Who Have Now Aged In Ways...
That Have Proven That They...
May Have Been A Good Lay...
But Mostly Had No Brain... !!!

I’m So Grateful Yes GRATEFUL...
That Those Who Placed Labels …
And Told Themselves Fables...
Whose Minds Were Unstable...

Were Never Those Willing...
To... Eat At My Table... !!!

Or Treat Me Like Guys...
Who Eventually Told...
These Girlies Goodbye...
In Ways That Were Cold... !!!

Cos’ It Just Goes To Show...
That Young ***** That Glitters...
Seem To Be Those of **’s...
Who Sell Holes And Get Bitter...
When They Become Old... !!

So I’m Grateful To Those...
Who Chose To Say... NO... !!!

Because Wisdom Has Shown...
That Many DON’T KNOW... !?!
What It Is To Find Love...
Or To Recognise That...
Their Beauty Will Crack...
And They’ll Likely Get Shunned...

Because... As We Age...
We Need Something MORE...
Than... Good Looks To Make...
Relationships Walk...
Their Way Past Divorce... !!!

I’m Grateful That I...
Have United With Guys...
Whose Creative Vibes...
Have Moulded With Rhymes...
That I Took Time To Write...

Because Some Sound Nice...
And Have Been Heard Worldwide
By People Who’ve Liked...
What We Chose To Provide...

So I’m Grateful To Those...
Who’ve Listened To Flows...
And Musical Tones...
As Well As Bass Lines...
Now Put To My Rhymes...
That They’ve Said That They Liked... !!!

And Am Grateful To Minds...
Who Chose To... Criticise...

Because It’s NOT Wise...
To Let Arrogance Ride...
Due To Talents You Have...

So I AM GRATEFUL That... !!!

I Do Have One Or Two...
That I Have Learned To Use...
Through Verse That Shares Views...
About Things I’ve Been Through...
And How This World Now Moves...

The Future’s Looking Bleak...
Big Tech And Disease...
And CONTROLS Running Free...

And Humans Now Fuelled...
By Protesting And Crews...
Divided By Feuds...
As Well As Fake News...

Now That Things Are Askew...
And A Word I WON’T Use...

My Life Has Now Proved...
That I’ve Been Lucky To...

Have Parents Who Were COOL... !!!
Who... DID NOT ABUSE...
Their Boy Who Has Now...
Become A GROWN MAN... !!!

Who Through This Life Has Found...
That It’s Good To Give Thanks...

So This Set of Words...
Are A Few That Confirm...

That No Matter What Life...
Makes Us Have To Go Though...

Whether Negative Or Positive...

APPRECIATE It’s GIFTS...
And Be Thankful And Give...

What We Call......

.... “ GRATITUDE “....

yo um girlies girlies
come over here
cuz i know ya adorn me og
like birdie above the rims
still rock overrals and black timbs
ask them
whos the best on the mic
no flex no plex
on to the next ***
of another kitten hittin'
n wishin'
for death upon thise foes
who used to doubt us and no shows
now im makin' about two point four
millies a year everybody stood up just to hear
the naughty by nature sound
pound for pound i buck em down
quick to scoop ya out the scene
count my mints fresh green mean and hung n lean
can u see what i mean?
jamboree and everybody celebratin'
so go on with that hatin'
we still.makim'
hits like its 1991 when i first heard my *** weighs a ton
i.understood im public enemy
number one
so here i go here i go
like Mystikal
to break my lyrical enigma
its gonna take a miracle!!

you can run but ya cant hide
from the lyrical homocide
strikes like ocean tide
split emcees into two
like jekyll and mr hide
oops watch for that slide
upside
ya head ya long dead
so chill out chill out
as we about
to set the record straight
again and again from my  tank goes to ya chin
let the competition begin
we in to win and then
pull out the straps perhaps
you new jacks need to take a nap as i slap
******* rhymes into a snore
ya adore i deserve an encore
gotta every lady makin a reservoir
observe ya curves then i say word
thinkin to myself cant wait to get the burbs
ya know ya cant down or slame me
but i knowi ******* jamboree


now that i got ya jammin
ear drums slamming
pumpin up my ****
like sneaks of a drive by hit
it dont matter where it hits ya
or gets ya im.suppose ta
rock the mic like dougie fresh
n slick rick still poppin demos and **** with my tystick lit
gotta stay higher
than a mountain
catch my fountain
of lyrics as i pour an encore
you know ya in for
this rhyming spree be *******
takin it back to ninety four
when music was real
ya soul could.feel
now adays music doesnt appeal real
fools talkin but scared but soon to be walkin
with the dead from the pump
that went upside ya head
dont play in a grown mans game
if ya feel ashamed
then knuckle up
only to get buckled
up like seatbelts leave welts
on back from my gats
imagine that?
me loosin only amusin
crowds i please old school fans i please
even street OGs
bouncin they heads to these
lyrical content
somethin the fo ya
freeestyle wild soldier that'll fold ya
cuz ya tried to slam me
but like butter i slip easily
into a style but rambling
words i be gambling
feel me now throw ya hands in the air for me
for this gotdamn jamboree

my dear dear  d e a r  boy.... .. . ..

her eyes are pretty
her smile is wide -- & white,
just like yours
she's tall, she's slim, and
she takes good photos of you on her instagram
her small brunette bun is annoying....................ly cute
her little legs & little arms too
i'm sure it looks like something out of a magazine
when they are wrapped around you...

another hip kid from some northeast city
little Connecticutie~
did she know about me?
does she know that you live right down the street?

she hid behind your shoulder
that's how i knew
that she is in love with you, too
& it feels like someone shoved a grenade down my esophagus
and i'm just  w a i t i n g  for it to ******* in a billion bits
so i can just get over this

and then all the dads will bring their little girlies
and all the ladies will raise their strawberry daiquiris
eyeing the loose shards of my dignity
hoping that they could somehow help with their jaded seniority
going,                                  "lesson number one:
                                     love is never  always fun."

i hate technology, its automated typo system, i write one thing and then it starts playing hide & seek with me... i rarely make mistakes, but this a.i. automated typo system makes me look stupid, or neurotic in the least, i hate this automatic typo signification as if i am teaching someone!*

i love that drinking wins over writing sometimes,
like this strange neo-left asking me to top it all off
with my communist grandfather living under stalin
completely in agreement with them girlies weeping
when he stank the dog off the grave in terms of bio-tech
completion; he wouldn't be dear to the left epitaph,
he'd be like voltaire & the priest: given the devil
in the sickbed there was not time to choose enemies...
he'd be branded a ****... worded... the worst kind...
a pseudo pacifist of some sort... couple economy
and atheism and you get a darwinian exclusion
where the ants aren't oblivious to lions but exclude them
for their species so well organised, god can take
the hangover route and make the "self" less sellable;...
(economy of a species and darwinism
demands communism - exclusive economisation;
not inclusive economisation...
that's some sort of theological branch
of personification where man minds spider above
another man, etc.)...
there's no self included, esp. a (")self(") worth selling...
which means exactly that (the opposite of now)...
NO TOURISM INTO THE REALM
OF CELEBRITY LITERATURE...
WHICH IS ONLY BIOGRAPHIES....
GET YER **** OUT GIRLS!
YOU'LL WRITE A BOOK SOMETIME!
god this culture is barren, and to think i dressed up
in uniform for school listening to jethro tull once...
this ain't the same country...
it sold out to the arabs... charles iii
is a ******* traitor!
traitor!
charless the iii is john ii... character assasination
you like you did with diana...
diana's revenge... yeah i believe you
were wearing silk straps of safety and the
driver survived and the parapazzi blinded the driver:
one thing about jealousy... it has dwarf legs.
they pass into the political realm they do....
easier come easier to take on in politics...
economic migrants (we'll see about that,
your philanthrophy just took to faking flight
via an invisible magic carpet flapping its trims)...
i told you once that democracy is like inverse voyeurism...
mark the x on paper, ***** an ****** into jugs for
pale ale... excess carbonation... it turns all fizzy...
the geese marched into winter...
the swans marched right into a royal edict...
the neo carta was never crafted...
but i got the hang of the diacritic marks...
i was walking drinking a belgian cider...
C DER.... in belgian french there's an accent,
stress the c, makes the vowel missing...
cídre - not really acute i, but an acute c...
c         dr. dre, i.e. dre, c dre...
it's the acute stressor of c that makes the vowel
disappear... not that a vowel can actually
become acute... vowels like women wear
mascarra to look pretty, the consonants are
serviced for a complexity... via hebrew original...
c                        dre
not
               si                        ahem...               dre.
in passes on the pompom for expected pomp -
i can't believe it took a bottle of belgian cider
to get that across.
oh sure they can hang me... by the snout...
for i won't be able to march into a field of truffles...
but hey... big snout worthy... never mind
trying to wear leather shoes given the hannibal
treatment for tacky snakeshoe leather.
most say that difficult literature is literature unread...
there's no other difficulty in literature...
difficult literature is simply unread, that's why
it's difficult... simple literature trickles down as easy as water...
and that's why it's easily managed by what
the chinese done already, having no hollywood and
damning india's bollywood... their phoneticism
is lodged in ideograms... pictograms...
european phoneticism is lodged in a skin to number,
B akin to 8, e.g., we get rich owning ovens
televisisions and satellites... but we also own
watiers and cooks who are mechanised...
and have no richness of thought...
who cares if beijing is clouded in smog?
we have 15 more years of carbon emission to wait for
before our idealism is profitable!
ah but the arab girls will migrate to london every year
between may and august... i should be so lucky lucky
australian girl pop lucky with them shopping
in only one hot spot, a grieving egyptian's legoland
of tacky known as harrods!

A legacy
On a jet plane
For the coast
The Great Northwest
Hallelujah
Nice to knew ya
Glad I blew ya

Fair Grand Rapids
How ya held me
Sometimes uppie
Sometimes downie
Always homie
Now I roamie

Furniture City
Chairs are pretty
Tables sturdy
Girlies hurtie

But no more sittie
Need new pretty
Land of Portals
And no mere mortals

It's divine time
Need new shoeshine
Get the cool
Or play the fool time

apparently we have to go, bypass the easiest crowd of the capital, the easiest crowd of the capital, the ****-pants girlies waiting for a fake ****** in idol worship... artist like wine bottle... bootleg us... they’re bootlegging us i tell you... we can only be considered when the young suddenly disappear with depressive suicides and the grey tide of mechanics of the conveyor belt of antics of the supposed ease - never mind the thrill of hunting the mammoth... first came the form of the four legged animal (cat, dog, lion), then came the square... after that... to exasperate us came capital H... or k... x... offshoots i say... allowances of photosynthesis nodding into the light... but first came the four legged animal... then the square... then the lettering to abbreviate the once wild animal now staged in domestication.... but still we’ll have to ferment like wine... to ask a bridal ****** to occupy a whitewashed house we can return to on the vector finitude of that claimant word home; so what are feminists waiting for? the chinese stole our jobs... we’re eager and waiting house bound males... like your grandmothers used to be being housewives... eh! came feminism a playground of fairness... come on! i’m not going to juggle torsos for entertainment of the decapitated head talking about flapping flippers / wings in frankenstein’s pose before the stampede of revenge. what’s that? ***** got wet and no one wanted to photograph a sell for the **** industry? it’s almost like the child slavery act of exploiting children by regina victoria. ooh ooh give me the gay gene so i can expect robinson crusoe rubbing a palm tree so fast as to turn it into fire up my ****... i might just **** a smoke signal big enough to be rescued from this corset tightening for “respectable speech therapy” coming from the asylum of the parliament of yank-a-doodle-do-nothing... but take a cabbie for a bus-driver in irish... ye gaz’d a per mill lon up the shore n ditched d per, eh, in via bear? shire rickety rickety cricket and the irish bigfoot known as an ‘obbit! god... where have the stereotypes gone to? switzerland?! my murky luck... yodel yodel yodeley michael jackson yo the who he hoo!

them lines is terrible
check the flow article
turn to hip hops manual
to learn a better flow or a better go
running from my lingo
on instrumentals
cuz yee know im detrimental
now watch me bus a bust like my mans rhymes
get it naw too slow to chime
i blow minds like land mines
once my pen hits the ink
ya cant blink cuz yosef
got telepathic addictions
lynchin' mental cells penchin'
cuz ya cant hang with me in this flows existence
ya need persistence
to hang with the greatest
take out the latest
emcees leave em stinky as fresh cheese hang with ogs
who **** for free or blatantly cuz steppin' to me ya better be
huh ready to go war cuz im snatchin' revenues
breakin' crews through gats n bats so ya know its critical
for ya to escapes its a miracle
i gain fame off pleasurin' pain
against the grain completely drained
cuz i leave empty brains im vain
as dolly parton still fartin'
firin' ****** up like ol martin'
i be the darkest of the darkest mark this
day n age once ya turn the page all ya see is rage
as i rack rhymes like a twelve gauge
rackin' shells spittin rounds
til bodies go stiff n touch hell
confined with no yell silence the demons screamin' yo jalel ***** this aint no fairytale
yo check the pic of that black guy with the afro pick
Even he look at your rhymes like ****
i got more licks than a blow pop im talkin glocks cocked
got ya face and body shocked as i rock
you to sleep cant even walk in the streets alone
cuz ya know yosef make skulls n bones **** yellowbones
i shine brighter than yellowstones on ya girlies ear
step up to the arena only to fear .the magnificent rhymes ya here
as i clear take control over the game as i steer
into another directions
haters better get protection
cuz in gankin' spanking emcees without an *******
i spit hotter than lava from my saliva
ya get nothing but hard rhymes
made you run from twistas sucide makin a marathon
*****! ya got 25 miles to go .only one mile eliminated
but once ya get to 26 you'll be laminated n a casket or cremated
from my scorching lyrics hard to clear once ya get near it
no smokes n mirrors the realer the pain the more the blood drains permanent like a stain
with my illegal amigos
will open up ya temple leaving more dimples than cellulite
fools get ya flows tight learn how to write
and spit metaphors i go for the gore sore til ya aint breathin no more
i told ya yosef be the magnificent never hesitant
breakin ya off like 8ball and MJG
got ya head restin lovely above the clouds
somebody call the coronor foe me
for this guy jalel who thinks he can hang with me
i got him confined like penitentiary ya can never get ahead me diss me
make ya head fly into suicides like kamikaze

prepare for the hittin
once the beat punch in
ya know im deadening
rude awakening
wake n bake never split the cake
50 50 down the middle
i want it all cant fall
if im the tallest never the smallest
regardless if fools hate this
ill just take this rhyme
and rip you up
like a machete
chop ya body up
then grind it like spaghetti
smoke phillies
ya know the dealie
got girlies sloppin the *****
til they silly
mortal like combat ya die quick
trying tie with
the wickedest
emcees im sick of this
everybody sounds the same
once i ignite the flame
burn all of those
til a salt grain
endure in pain
like hells household strong hold
on the game ill never let go
******* hoes
Been down from the jump though  
fools that hate get kidnapped
and drags puff buddha bags
afro with a red bandana flag
**** the source and the other mags
despise ****
i could trade in my rhymes
and itll amount to price
of fo jags...

Waiting Waiting..........
Always WAITING.... !!!

After A While...
Becomes FRUSTRATING... !!!!!

Like Waiting For A Train...
That’s Gonna Make You LATE... !!!
Because It’s Been............. DELAYED...

Or... Waiting For The Day...
When Girlies Play STRAIGHT...
Instead of... Playing Games...
When It Comes To Getting Laid... !!!!

Ya See Waiting Is A Game...
That ISN’T Fun To Play... !!!

If What You’re Waiting For...
DOESN'T Guarantee Rewards... !!!

Like Music From Producers...
Who Have ALL The Excuses...

For Why It Takes SO LONG...
For Them To Finish Songs... !!!

To Me These Guys Act FUNNY...
When It Comes To Getting MONEY... !!!!!

“We need to be paid,
before we play a single note !
That’s it okay, no time to wait,
or for debate !
If you want your stuff,
to really sound tough !
Pay us up front,
and you’ll get what you want !”

That’s How It STARTS...
UNTIL Cash DEPARTS... !!!

But Then You're Left....
WAITING............................ ..

Waiting... WAITING.... !!!!!

And Then You're Left Stationed...
Unable To... “Move”... !!!!!
Just Like Black Nations....
... Requiring FOOD... !!!

STARVED of Information...
About Your Tunes... ?!?!?

Waiting Like SATAN...
With A Darkened Mood...

Because You Want CLOSURE.
Before Your Composure...
Gets Lost And Confused...

Because These Guys...
... AREN’T Telling You...
When Things Are FINALISED...
... Which Is NOT COOL.... !!!!!

Because INDUSTRY Types....
AREN’T Known For The Truth... !!!!!

Or For Doing What’s RIGHT... !!!
By Artists... Who....
Place TRUST In Them... !!!

These Industry Heads...
Who... Play The FOOL... !?!

But Walk Away PAID...
Even If Your Tunes...
Don’t Sell Or Get Played...
Like... Biebers' Do.... !!!!!

I Guess It’s Like Blacks...
Waiting For Reparations... !?!

Because Your Track’s...
Getting NO Rotation... !!!!

... ON Radio... ???
Or... In Your Own Home... !?!

It’s True.... White Folks...
Play The Same Old Role...

NO Getting Past GO...
Until THEY SAY SO.... !!!

Its The Same Old Story....
WITHOUT Denzel...
Or A Film Called... " Glory "... !!!

BIG WIGS Turn Tricks...
More Than They Make HITS... !!!

And The OTHERS Try To Smother...
By Pulling STROKES Like BUTTER...

When THEY TOO Are...
..... BLOODSUCKERS..... !!!

SICK ******* Type HUNTERS... !!!

Just Waiting For Young Prey...
To ABUSE While They Make HAY... !!!

They Say It’s Just A Game...
That You Have GOT TO PLAY... !!!
If You Want To GET PAID... !!!!

But... Waiting In Vain...
Holds Weight TODAY...
In... Different Ways...
To Bob Marley’s Day.... !!!

Or Maybe Just MAYBE... ?
Things Just WON'T Change....

It’s A STRAIN On The Brain...
For Those... " In The Game "...

Who Play It... STRAIGHT... !!!!!

From Those Who ENTERTAIN...
To Those WAITING For THAT TRAIN  ... !!!!!

CONTEMPLATING At The Station...
WHY ON EARTH Am I STILL.....

...... “ Waiting “...... ???

So Who’s The HARDEST... ?!?
And Who’s The Smartest... ?!?

And Who HITS Those TARGETS...
Where... Profit Margins...
Get Careers STARTED... ?!?

WITHOUT Having To BARGAIN...
Like A WINGLESS Starling... !!!

I’m ONLY Really NOW Starting...
To See How DARKNESS...
... RULES The Markets... !!!

of Those Now CLAIMING...
To Be The... HARDEST... !!!

From Sport To ****...
To Who Runs FASTEST... ?!?

It Seems That What’s POOR...
Is What People... ADORE... ?!?

So As I Said It’s... ******...
Who Keep Getting Applause... !?!

From **** Now Born...
From The HARDEST Dark *****... !!!

Splitting MORE Than White Lips... !!!

To The Type of Shows...
Where The HARDEST Jokes...
Get To Be WELL KNOWN...
And Earn REAL HARD Dough... !!!

So YES... You’ve Guessed...
That What This Poem Suggests...

Is That The Word HARDEST...
In This Case Means The BEST... !!!

Or In The Case of ***... !!!
It Means The BIGGEST *****...
With The Length And Breadth...
That Girlies... CAN’T Resist...

Because of HOW WET...
Their ******* Get...
When They Let Them In... !!!

It’s A FUNNY Old Thing...
How A Word Can SWING...
And Link To Different Things...

Like The HARDEST Lyrics...
From A REAL LYRICIST... !!!

That’s RIGHT Like..... ME..... !!!

NOT Quite... “ LEGENDARY “...

But In The End Folks Will SEE...
That Big Virge Has Written...
Some TRULY HARD POETRY... !!!

That Deals In TRUTH And REALITY...

So Is FILLED With Visions...
That Are PRESCRIPTIONS...
To Which Folks Should Listen...
  
Because of The WISDOM...
That Is Shown Within Em’... !!!

Built From DEEP Thinking...
Like The HARDEST VILLAIN... !!!

Who Wants To See The SYSTEM...
Be What IS... “IMPRISONED”...
In The HARDEST Prison... !!!
That Is... UNFORGIVING...

of The HARDEST RACISM...
And Forms of DIVISION... !!!

That’s Been MORE Than SCRIPTED... !!!
Because It’s What’s DRIVEN...

What Is NOW In Vision...
... WEAKENED Markets...
Protests CHARGING... !!!!

And MUCH MORE DARKNESS... !!!

Than There Is Folks LAUGHING... !!!

Well Me I’m STILL MOVING...
Just Like Those TARGETS... !!!

With Wordplay PROVING...
That... What I Design...
In Words That I Rhyme...

Is......
... UNDOUBTABLY ARDENT...
Just Like A Bugs Varmint... !!!

They May NOT Be The SMARTEST... ?!?

But Are Those of An ARTIST...
Whose Art Is WAY PAST...

Those Who Are CLAIMING...

To Be The...

.... “ HARDEST “.... !!!

yeah it's time for the hood to stand on they feet
and rep the code of the street
knockin out m and m
with polos shirt
polo jeans and black timbs
extracting limbs
we marchin' like platoons sending dooms
hits like Beruit
these fools is fruit
sweeter than Nabisco
keep the Crisco
roll the molly up slow
so ya know my flow
is smooth and mellow
castin bellows not ya modern day fellow
black as Othello
not Shakespeare
but my gun can make you transform
into the invisible atmosphere
here me clear I have no fear
pressure ya like peers steer
this rap game back to correction
once I make the alignment
hataz get confinement
extort loot like embezzlements
this ain't for embellishment
yeah I'm  hell sent
far from a repent
and you feel my presence
without my presence
I'm coasting beats roasting
leave tracks toast and
who? hotter than me
I beat any and every
emcee that trys to step to me
I'm like sensory
but the message is conveyed cuz I paid
my dues with trues
I deliver rhymes fast
like heard of bad news
so ya know yallin the defeat
try a compete
competition in a sleep
c uz I be the code of the streetts




is it pain or madness
I'm attracting to?
check the door that ya step through
mystical mysterial
stackin' underground
imperials
now your inferior
blacks n latinos
be the surperiors
along with the indians and haitian to jamaican we ain't fakin we takin' mass land ******. a perfecto master plan
because
I like seeing bodies turn blues
like they choked out
gaspin' for air
I don't care
shouldn't have step into my lair
yeah yo rhymes
thin
as a follicle hair
stock rhymes like cement brick layers
true ol school playa  
I be the black Flair
make ya girlies
say wooo beating down crews
like Egyptian slaves none could pave
a pathway I lay
more holier than scripture graphic picture
had to be censored
parental advisory is needed
when it heated like friction
breaking jurisdiction
**** this bias *** system
cold lynching us
mad at us cuz we
still alive
and our guns bust put trust
in myself
I'm a moor short
for Hebrew pointin out the fake h
Jews
ya know ya time is limited
shy but far from timid
runnin the game like Emitt
Smith take a spliff so I can get a lift
and let the hydro take me to astral
let the thoughts flow
on the beat giving subliminal for the code of the streets