Uhh,..(I can't sleep3)..(I'm up,Yeah2)..Uhh, Yeah..(I can't sleep3)..I gotta stay grinding more yeah..Uhh..(no I can't sleep6)..I (can't sleep3), I gotta keep writing till I'm dead & gone,yeah..Aye..(I can't sleep6),can't sleep...I gotta keep working hard .Aye..(no I can't sleep3)..(I can't sleep3), (can't sleep.3).Imma keep rolling *** , sativa..Aye..(I can't sleep, no I can't sleep4)..,I gotta keep grinding yeah, some more..,.Uhh, Yeah..(I can't sleep3)...no (I can't sleep.3)
No I can't homie..yeah I'm doing the most, Yeah..,
/I (can't sleep2)/3.
(I can't sleep3)..Insomnia, Yeah,..(I can't sleep3)..I gotta lot of moves & money to make,& I'm in pursuit homie..I can't sleep..I'm up..Yeah

Ayo, I'm spitting this dope man listen up..Ayo yeah I'm spitting the truth my ***** so blast this **** loud..Uhh


I'm in my Trap man, rapping & packaging this hard to flood the streets wit, I'm investing in my tounge *****,..I'm slanging dope with communication, Yeah my language, ***** its a craft to do what I'm doing,.. I'm so good with writing raps..I should apply to Atlanta Art Institution, (I can't sleep2)..(I'm up2)..man I'm too focus, I'm so hungry, physically & mentally Yeah,..(I can't sleep2)..(I'm up2)..just like a crack fein chasing after its last high mane,..I'm tryna get higher, I'm so tired of rolling  ****** up, so I'm grinding, so I can have alot of dat funky stuff up in my brain, no I can't get enough of the funk my *****..Yeah,Yeah

I'm in full speed,.. I'm going so fast homie,.. Like a  NASCAR race mane, you demons better stay outta my way or yo *** will get raned over just like what Tony Stewart did to Kevin Ward..R.I.P homie, no disrespect to his family, I'm just saying don't mess wit me..because (I don't play3)..Naw mane..I'm bout what I say,..Noo..(I don't play3)..Imma grown *** man, no baby steps no more homie..Aye
(I can't sleep2)
I'm up (all day2)..
noo
(I can't sleep2)
I got money to take & make..noo
(I can't sleep2)
I got alot of moves (to make2)..No
(I can't sleep2)
I got alot of **** (to Bake..2)
Aye..


Aye, I stay up 24/7..,I gottas to get it...I'm very impatient, I'm pushing my self to the limit, I'm pushing my self no peer pressure, **** who else gonna push me nobody else will man..Ayo
I'm inspiring the youth homie,Ayo..Im inspired by myself, mane I look in the mirror man, & be like (got ****2)..You the truth Drew, Fo show..(Yeah4).., & I ain't cocky or conceited, my ***** I motivate myself..Yeah..Aye

(I can't sleep3)..***** I'm up next..(Uhh2)..(Yeah2)..(I can't sleep2)..** I'm the best..(I can't sleep3)..***** I'm the man Yess..(I can't sleep2)..I'm up & writing hits *****,..(I can't sleep3)..,I'm grinding.. (I can't sleep3)..I'm  searching, tryna find where success lives..Yeah I'm hungry, like a lion..Aye..(I can't sleep3)..

Imma diamond, Im so fly man,..I'm so higher than anyone else,..yeah Im so unique, Ayo, Imma  g, Aye (I can't sleep3)..its so hard to get some rest like I lived (on the streets,3) Ayo, I'm tryna feed (my family3) mane,..I'm fighting for my family like John Q homie, I'm doing the impossible anybody could of done it tho, but these ****** just to ***** for the part so Im playing the role, Ayo, I'm staying true to myself always no matter what, I will never ever fold, I will never change for the fame, **** having  a fraudulent sound, forget a major label, nobody bossing me around, I'm commanding myself dawg..I'm in a position of authority no Cartman..Uhh, Imma young southern ***** wit a  Midwest Flow..,Aye, I roll up for depression, that's my medicine Yess..mane I ain't regreting nothing , I'm looking past all of the dumb **** I  ever did do, I'm growing stronger, like the Hulk , Im teaching myself control..but im still uncontrollable..Aye my rhymes make parents uncomfortable, **** it have your lil son trying dresses on, I did the best that I could do..I'm here to uplift you  & inspire, not take you to hell  dude..Uhh

(Don't try me2)..*****, OFTR we camed from nothing now all we do is get stares , the people finally starting to notice what's real, man we was famous in our minds already, (confidence,)
when the doubters & haters thought of us as a bunch of lazy *** ******..man, we was winning even before they ever started to  take notice, Aye, we was winning even tho we  took alot of losses,..OFTR we prevail, Thank God for everything without him I would never had wrote this..Ayo
You gotta learn from the past mistakes,  move past them, & try to never make them again mane dawg, never take any breaks, keep practicing, untill you fall out, & lose consciousness..never give up, & never give in , Yeah you win some, Yeah you lose some, but your heart still beats,..so keep breathing.. (Go harder, Yeah2)..*****,.. Uhh

(I can't sleep3)..,Naw (I can't sleep3)..Insomnia,.. Uhh, play this song over & over again if you  are feeling down, sad & depress ..I'll uplift ya..Uhh..,..I can't sleep

I can't sleep6..
I gotta stick to what I know.
I gotta stay on go..

A bogus nation.

That's known to throw the faces,

that they don't  like
inside the lowest  places.

Prisons and graves  overflowed with
wasted,
potential.
Mental forces undergo  no changes.

If we don't like it,
then we fight with rage.

In exchange for our freedom
we might die today.

The sun always comes out on a brighter  day.

Ignited is the spark that inspires  flames.

The fire is alive and your minds  ablaze.

It’s hard to feel alive,
when your life is caged

Released and unleashed this is my  domain.

My disdain for you is unkind but hey,
we’re living on a globe where hope  became,
worse than smoking  dope
or slanging  cane.

But thats the way she goes,
nope I won't complain.

But I can **** the giant
and overthrow the slain.

Great fades to gray
where commonplace turns to decay
where the abnormal becomes negatively neurological
which leads to the ingestion of government sector sedatives
and we wonder why segregation of brain and mind is prominent
promises never kept and mind that never gets better
but before we fix the broken we must make you broke.
Objects in the mirror to fit society's standards
E news, TMZ, fox- all the new cancer.
Throw your money at it
make it go away
and watch in awe as the auction of your autonomy accelerates-
your mind is money to the highest bidder
and they don't budge when they watch your wallet quiver.
Quiet in the courtroom-
little Kyle's got a drug charge
searched his car without consent
convict at the age of sixteen
which is sickening to see.
Kyle was just depressed and needed a little THC
the only thing that would help him with social anxiety
and now he's facing a charge for not taking the meds
marijuana manipulation of the municipals
and now little kyle won't be able to go to a good school
18 the record will be swiped clean
but the debt of the courtroom creeps into his credit.
Society's white lies will tell you you'll be fine
debt from the courtroom turn to slanging dope-
dealing with depression while dealing in possession
pulled over, twice moreover propaganda's progression.
They feed us the same lies we go out of our way to buy-
news channels, channeling bias views for more views
sitting idly by as our lives pass through
changing channels as we become the chattel
slaves to our own brain waves from the manipulation
we love to bow down to this free nation
led by puppets- controlled by intimidation tactics.  
It's just backwards, the backbone of the nation doesn't have one
Columbine happened because little Kyle could get a gun, run-
repeat until it's done, dictating your discrimination
it's fun until everyone has to run away from the shooter.
Bangs heard throughout the world
talk of how his head was on backwards smoking on these backwoods
But he was off the marijuana and on the medicine-
FDA approved turned into a bullet to the head.
BANG.
Sinister structure of society-
**** america why did you have to lie to me.

It started as a joke we all laughed at the thought
of slanging coke
or passing cops with a whole bag of thizz
cheesing out ya window, just like Andre and Mac Dre in the Bay and Valley Joe
But now the game got real
I'm broke and choked for skrill (skreel) and this sandwich place can't even contend with the dough I'd make if I dealed
But who could I trust and who would squeal, make me have to peel out in my whip as I dipped
moved cribs and changed homies
Do I have a soul of a drug dealer or one for slapping on pepperoni to a sandwich for another zombie
Do I have the soul of a drug dealer?

Triggered much
I'm the boss
Take the loss -
I'm the sauce *****,
A1

Call my bluff
Mindless thots
Gobble ****
Catch me bustin
Like it ain't nut

Go to sleep

Fighting wars with keyboards,
While Grandma knits
Globally postal
Wit that anthrax mix
only hoping that reality splits;

These Lizard overlords
be slitherin quick
Underground:
u kno this wigga, B. Hittin-Licks

I’m ****** imminent  
to infinity and beyond
This dude buzzed lightyear,
Woody full attention;
Lil Bo Peep
She be getting no sleep,
Its a methed up situation yuh

This the celebration

Make yo ****
fissure into splinters
Crack the Ripper
with my finger
on the trigger
just hope it dont slip
~make you quiver
Rock a tight sphincter

Boi got nothing to lose
u bet your *** that I deliver
Devastating maneuvers
leave you hatin fools
Like who dis kid
with parkinsons jitters

Its a disgrace
cant lace ya shoes
But tryna play catch up
**** outta my face
*****,  hail the victor ya trippin'

Make no mistake,
my alias is satan
You lost the game
Restart the mission?

Dyslexic peasant,
I brought yo presents
I'm aggressive
reckless and relentless
got a rope necklace take some lessons

Finna hit em with that finisher
Sippin licks with dinner sure
Smokin out the villagers
**** and pillage conqueror
Down the bottle slurring words
Blurring out the big pictures
Swinging from a high fixture
Slanging sherm above the curve

rello I be rollin
biscuit limp but i be blowin
Out the water laps I'm stroking
Real **** love got homies choking

Smoke bricks kick rocks
Got the socks on with the flip flops

Golf cap on my noggin
Give me top like its hats off
grab some charmin
keep that *** soft
***** gravier than thicc sauce
Like my salad full toss
About to clobber em
Jump jump ***** crisscross

Taskforce Outlaws with chainsaws
Pale horse when that bass drop

And it’s occured to me
Since I lack the courtesy
To say the pleasantries
fore i be pushing out them boundaries

Killer O.J. quenches thirst
a murderous summer is the worst
But if the glove fits, must acquit
need a magnum, Jonnie Cochran
blast em wit the Chewbacca defense

Flowerboy spit my seed *****
Loose lips in the whip aye
Firmly grasp the shaft
when I switch lanes
Pallets of ******* call me rick James
Pull up round the clock
Gone off that rock
Knocked my mf block off ***** I'm insane
Tha fire token renegade

through that snapback
Spills ya ****** brains

close proximity word-compounds are sometimes the hardest to invert onto themselves, to craft a chiral pivot, notably due to the suffix-blindspot of the non-differentiated prefix antonym, even more so, when guarded by close proximity of words such as hubris / hiatus - esp. when was begins one's logical approach, inducing a misnomer tangle - due to the overtly laden verbum similis; and these little schematic squares of extremely confrontational, but also the more so extremely cohabitable ref. points, will always be harder to master, than say: a rigid rhyme schematic of a sonnet.

all this current talk of protecting free speech,
cf. with the writing i'll cite -
well, so much for a freedom that can
invite both the sophist and babbling of
slanging slurs -
      all in all, in defence of the "freedom" of
speech, is just as well, a: freedom for
idle talk - and if not idle talk, then simply
politicised intrigue, that once gained
the ears of salon ladies at liberty to an alt.
to ****** arousal.

and how did this come about?
   oh... well, what people talk about now,
is what people thought about in the 1920s
and the 1930s...
                  
as heidegger points out, regarding a herr
oswald spengler - der untergang das abendlandes
(1918 - 1922 vol. 1 & vol. 2 respectively):
the famous suggestion of a *decline of the west:
paragraph opening -
          why is herr spengler in noting
a decline? not because of the heroic optimists
being correct with regards to this apparent
decline - modernity as the unfathomable
stretch toward a status quo eternity -
and with darwinism, the theory of relativity,
the big bang, quantum physics -
there's about as much worth of a question-worthiness
these days, as there is a needle's worth
in a haystack of airy tumbleweed answer-unworthiness...
these former optimists of the decline
   have turned into ardent pessimists of
there even being a decline -
      
the oeuvre of psychology did the most damage
in the end -
   still mingling with an archaic sophistry of
astrology, tarot and the voting ballot -
       no shred of a doubt that we live in a one
way street of: answers & denials only, please,
questions & doubts, ooh noo noo noo!
         we do not live worthy of a question -
since by question we mean: ridicule being
the only appropriate answer deserved by
asking a question.
              
    it came with the change of hiatus between
   the two factions -
   once the optimists took to hubris -
                   the pessimists take to hiatus -
if we called them heroic optimists -
we now call them optimists in hubris -
  once we called them lunatic pessimists
and ultra-religious leash bearers -
     now we call them: young people who
forgot to take chances, risks, and thrills...
  cushion padded wet charcoals that
have as much potential to burn as -
                               a dolphin getting dry.

and aphorism 105 (VI) does just that,
   100 years ago by my circa approach -
'the west will not go down, primarily because
it is too weak for that, not because
it is still strong.'
  which is why i ask: is free speech anything
to defend these days, when free thought
echoes so many years later,
  and what is now considered "free" speech
is merely idle superstition regarding
a "revival", the last supposed push?

there's absolutely no honour in kicking
a maned dog,
                    and in that act: of kicking
a maned dog, or giving a bowlful of bones
for a toothless dog to nibble on
is just as well... might as well spoon out
the marrow and give the old hag of the west
a pâté to slurp...
        yes, orthographically speaking:
very pedantic of the french to bend the macron
into a circumflex -
sure, ain't pretty, but i can assure you:
i'll be technical;

what the west can be thankful of is that it's
the first culture in decline,
   and once a culture is in decline,
among so many others, the others follow suite -
like a spread of cancer,
or any other plague -
     it probably begins by the european
decadence in not respecting antibiotics -
  infesting themselves with superbugs -
or thereby managing to craft some sort of
immunity to them...
  and they say that ****** if baah baah baad...
big pharma never kills, does it?!

i'm still confused on a close proximity akin
to thesaurus logic of synonyms -
i.e. decline of the west = heroic optimists of the decline
        (it must surely happen!)
or is: decline of the west = pessimists on hiatus?
                  i.e. it will never happen!

ah! that's what it was: i was thinking of hiatus
but wrote hubris instead... d'uh dum dum...

  i.e. the roles have changed -
now the pessimists are engaged in hubris -
                      while the optimists are on a hiatus:
the whole - i told you so...
             the whole i told you so since the 1920s
is irrelevant these days,
   given the great america never again ended
at the beginning of the 21st century...
                    the monologue from the grand ***
degraded from the grand satan is hot puff and
cinnamon smoke...
          
       once more: what is relevant about what's
being said these days? as much as was a passing
observation in the 1920s?
          i hardly think so...
   the so-called freedom that only gravitates
to idle-chit-chat and poseur antics of bravado?

given that not much is questioned,
   and whatever is questioned has lost its allure
to be fresh, to be alarming,
   all the questions asked are plagiarisms,
a dead-end, in imagery: a library with only
one book in it (i mean, a library brimful with
books, but all these books are the same book);
which makes these times so
answer-unworthy - is that they come so
easily, and are usually borrowed from
the same anglophonic sets of ideas,
regurgitated chick food from the peckers of
their parental guardians.
            
         well, if you live in times when people
have that idiotic audacity to ask a question
like: what's the meaning of life,
  why are we here, how did we form, etc.:
   all these inessential "essence" questions -
          and about as many historicals gaps
of memory lapse as a drinking session with
oliver reed in between...
               the only question goes something
like this:
   and ? found myself walking around the house,
walking by a mirror, ? peered in,
   and without a narcissus to mind
to slowly build a curiosity that would turn
into self-love, ? exclaimed: !,
   after which ? steadied by pace of questioning
adding the much needed: ?!
                      
what's as good a questioning dynamic / schematic as
you're going to get, these days.

Sit back, relax, these cravings make this couch feel like rehab
out of reach of my stash, feel like I'm crashin' but I already crashed
been here since work an' I can't feel my feet, crap!
Sit up, and remember everything that you tried to keep from thinkin' of
your account, the amount, dropping like doves
in these times of war, no heroes just ******, nerdin' out on the game of life
trying step it up on the score boards, tryin' ta live like lords in this world
that has no law, why not be an outlaw, tough cuffed, straight jaw
dealin' out pain like a war god, Kratos, dime bags is small tomatos
when you could push yayo, one call to my man and I could get a crateful.
****** if I ain't a salesman, slanging nuns chewy doobies on the side, call me satan
and I'm the king of this world, it's hell, try escapin', I could have it
in the palm a' my hand if I made a move but then I gotta choose, play my luck
trust my ******* gut to keep from getting cut, like it's my only homie but he only knows
me cause I was pushing dro with the stonies.
I don't want a knife in my back, a run in with the feds or getting popped by the caps
tryin' ta dodge traps laid by cats that is jealous of my stacks,
I want a paradise where we all make racks, blast our music, blaze it fat, and all rap
sleep with both eyes closed, no need to watch our back,
too bad we were born in a world ruled by cash,
ain't never gonna have a globe like that...

Oakland...walkin with my Walkman
Collecting cans to get 10 cents so u can try to pay the man
Gang banging...ppl slanging that good stuff
Yup that's Oakland
Walkin to the corna store
Gimme more gimme more
Make sure I get the right kinda mint like the wood
Maybe I could try and get outta Oakland
Dreamin of a better life
Free from familiar strife
Shoot this is life
Sharp like a two edge sharp knife
I laugh cuz I kno I'm better than this
Oakland...walkin with my Walkman dreamin...schemin...believin

Late night, into the morning, in a lonesome bed still yawning
Vest on my chest and a tingle between my legs, I'm mourning
It's a confusing feeling, the thoughts in my brain are calling
Seven years old and the appealing feelings are appalling

Vexed by the *** that my peers are having
I stay with boys, on the corner, hanging
Moving crack rocks, ******* slanging
But my hormones know and leave me panging

Caught by my father as a guy goes down
Kicked all around and thrown of of town
Homophobe Dad don't want me around
Now I'm just searching eternally for a sound

They called me immoral and assumed my brain unsound
Moving product, all I ever wanted was to wear that crown
Like Omar on The Wire, King of the streets, feared all around
They have no love, after being caught my life crashed down

I traveled the street loathsome and alone I always dined
Until I met the man I adore and we saw the changing times
We marched for freedom and worked within the lines
Now I have a love that I can say is all mine

Coke at the fireplace,
sitting in a crowd
It just doesn't stop.
Doesn't quit.
"As long as there's that tic tic followed by that bump"
you sway your hips.
red dress shayshaying against your hips.
soft satin rubbing on that skin of an angel.
it's a black night
in a white light
You don't know what this means quite yet,
but the pulsating beat
tapping on your soles
in the distant city
it beckons for you,
to come out tonight
and dance your way back to it.
It's a white light
actually it's a white light in your eyes now.
that's what happens when you're destined for this part
equip yourself
on this ride
satin feels like a itchy grip now don't it?
but all is better ain't it?
many a hour later
you shall
share with us this splendor
blinding magnificence
for we are the peons
and you are the the great inquisitor
of the abstract blue
slanging rocks,
on the mountain tops.
Should we know better
or shall we know less?

Try and pose some grand question to the innocuous universe overhead
Or run and fall on tired tread train tracks, flailing arms and legs, screaming
This Elysium falls over broken skulls and your life is shattered too, screen-door glass shards
Pompous waterfalls of the soul crash on a vacant rock, and you sit crying to imaginary songs
Take walks through empty towns and fantasize about some crumbling bridge
Or even smash vending machines in anger
Or kick at tenement building walls, and hope to God that they fall
Like you did when the spirit left your body
We were too young to understand, the slanging match of the soul
And how the doors that slammed were representative of a larger being
The ever present societal constructs that they were bound
And now even in adulthood we too scream at one another
Wishing we were not them
Praying we were sane
So you wash dishes by the grease fire, moonlight faded curtains
And I sit by the table, grinning some unfathomable grin
Because just yesterday I stood there too and washed in the same manner
Fighting urges to lunge and fall at the humming beast in the corner
Or so and you make eye contact
And but I am lost in trains of thought
Or thoughts of trains
And just then the kids come crying, from the upstairs rooms
In the house that we grew up in
Or perhaps, the house I lived in and you grew up in

I don’t know if it’s just the bitter cold
or the failure of the liquor to warm my soul,
but there’s frostbite on my lungs and an emptiness deep inside me.
“The future is bright” oh what a lie,
spending every night with my only company; the sky,
the stars lose the fight and even fade when the sun rises high,
and it does so spitefully.

I’ve got unlimited time,
claiming invincibility as a crime.
I’ve got an endless list in rhyme,
but I have no conclusion.

Tell me Scout, is this a joke you were planning?
Boo Radley’s tree is not for hanging.
Gritted teeth and fists are banging.

I’ve got unlimited time,
but no energy left for the climb.
I’ve got never ending points to chime,
but it’s all an illusion.

Tell me Scout, is this a joke I’m not understanding?
Boo Radley’s tree is not for hanging.
Dodging punches and slurs they’ve all been slanging.

I evaluated the situation up and down, left and right,
and I still don’t think it’s accurate of that night,
‘cause the level was too hard when I meant to choose beginner.
I tried to hold your interest with all my might,
but I noticed your eyes drastically dim in light,
the screen flashed “game over” before we were even done dinner.

When the darkness comes
and I unravel, undone,
I know only you will get me.
When I’m fully consumed
and swearing I’m doomed
I’m sure you’ll wish you never met me.

How can you give a ****
if you don’t know who I am
and all the stories that are my building blocks.
Take the time to cram,
assign roles of lion and lamb,
but apparently it’s a wolf now in these talks.

And the pictures were colour
yet all the same they seem black and white,
maybe they faded as they sure seem duller,
or maybe there’s just not enough light.

Everyone pulls away, I sadly know the drill,
it’s impossible to stay, or even just stay still.
Throwing punches and slanging slurs,
tell me is it impossible to draw a line?
I gave her a heart but she never gave hers,
I’m surprised she even wanted mine.

I’m stupid enough to keep my word
and foolish enough to keep a promise.
Dissecting and analyzing the absurd,
intelligence is the mortal enemy to total bliss.

We live, We Rot,
We also die,
We born to seek the truth,
but live in a lie,
To live in forever youth,
Maybe the end is nigh,
and extinction is insight,
Living by the Government orders,
Everything filmed by phones and camcorders,
Fighting against the system,
Destroying all that is wisdom,
I laugh at everything I see on social media,
Cause I don't want to live in a state of acedia,
I am done with the hypocrites,
to be like the army of offended termites,
See I don't lie about being an hyprocite,
There's nothing that I will not admit,
See you think that violence will be the change,
Like a mosh pit to the metal/rock scene,
See I think that violence will never be the change,
Cause the government always wants the votes at the voting machine,
Cause it doesn't fit the cultures at the firing range,
Cause history is full of dirt, so is the future,
nothing that can be cleaned via a washing machine,
Cause let face it, Humanity is an infected wound that needs a suture,
Cause it always about disagreements on skin colour and culture,
First breath to the last, final air exchange,
Bullet to the face, arm, chest, body, beauty changer,
Even Makeup might make a dog still look like it got the mange,
Everyone still in somewhat sort of danger,
See Beauty is not skin deep, it is everything about you,
in life, your either hot or ugly, but one thing at the end we all turn blue,
See you can be hot, but with an attitude of I get what I desire,
Leave you petty and ******* ugly,
See you can be hot, but with an attitude of I can be a classifier,
Leave you looking like a slow hair growth, pretty stubbly,
See you can be ugly, but with an attitude of I work for what I have,
Can leave you pretty and **** hot,
See you can be ugly, but with an attitude of what I have, I also gave,
Can see a woman or a man, that won the lot,
Cause prettiness is worked and earn, respected,
Cause ugliness is sang and burnt, upon reflected,
Often sang by the death choir,
Burnt and set in fire,
Religion is the hateful community,
So is every other community that is a crier,
from the LGBTQ+, Black, Asian, White, It all in disunity,
Slanging matches, slanging arrows, at each other,
Murdering a family, ****** the mother,
Murdering a family, ****** the father,
Murdering a family, ****** the daughter,
Murdering a family, ****** the son,
Murdering a family, ****** the baby,
Murdering a gang, blood brothers,
Murdering a era, one after another,
Education is just a cover,
Truths to discover,
Coffin, Soil just a ground cover,
A Chariot in flames rode by an winged hussar,
Cause communities, cults are all dangerous,
Beliefs, Cultures, Styles will all end in obtaining the justice,
Maybe it Covid, Maybe it us, that was the start of the end,
of a Humane extinction purpose

in love with the sign language i taught myself: wave, and then extend your *******... it's called a hang-job in signlanguage; it's like waving a goodbye, with the goodbye being more a ****-off, than a goodbye: god give me better grace, i love the shake of the hand as if jerking off, and subsequently the extended ******* to add the compliment; ****! it almost feels like the welsh V!

i know how it feels being an "illegal" immigrant,
second time round though?
   legal as a kite, or a yellow submarine,
but that's beside the point, as i told my father
today: you've seen the state of english
these days? these acronyms and the middle
class favouritism of emojis?
you've seen it? this is a language?!
these are covert methods to prevent people
from learning computing code!
**** em, someone has to shove em,
kick em up their lazy **** *****!
           work you cunty *** sleazes!
work! what? not congregating on
the monasteries? imagine me as a rabid
dog, owned by henry viii, about to chew
off your leg!
   ****** thinks i'm not "properly" integrated...
so why is it, that i know english language
better than your ****** populace?!
riddle me that, all day, from monday through
to sunday, and the irish bank holiday,
a ****** like me loves a bit of
riverdance on the sly...
       so?
                hello?!
                   so you gonna ******* do it,
or retreat into your lil 'obbit 'ole?
******* *******...
         no wonder the i.r.a. gave up:
who gives a toss about fighting transvestite
***** after 20+ odd years...
even the spies were like: you will not
find me engaging in this sort of *****
for the next 'undred years...
   i'll genuflect st. paddy's shamrock
and call it jewish twice over,
than behave like those, ******* perverts
of the ęnglischspreschen* -
and that's what you call fishing,
my mired youngling.
i tol my papa: ******* keepin' wit'
the times?!
    look at 'em... ugly 'n' "spontaneous"
like the ******* elephant man...
         ooh: goonah fly an eff off wit a kyt...
like **** you yo will...
     fly me a yorkshire spud 'stead 'irst...
you ******* dartford dodger....
       said the 'ackney lass...
see: i speak more english than the 'acking
english....
     it's about akin to 'eaching poker:
you learn the cockers:
you learn the:
                   two doors down luv,
and if ders no shlang for that 'ort of phrase:
there ****** ought to be, next week:
    ya 'acking cockney 'onker!
now i feel like a right *******...
         or like i really need a propah
jerking off... which is y means that
it can only be
answered in jai jai, or the slip of tongue
on led zeppelin's d'yer mak'er, as
the scots 'aid - druid in make-em mon -
   what's that, maca ******* roons?
       tall order, for slanging off almonds,
****, 'et's toast 'em,
           ******* were never gonna
          learn the ******* bagpipes anyway
just tell 'em to learn the dog whistle,
or the orchestra's triangle.

It should have been home and instead it was the equivalent of rounds of no Brexit deal tribulations
We were largely at war, it was the Renaissance of our sour relationship
which we thought had been swept under the bristles of the front door mat
but the residual anger had decided to rise to the surface and encompass our relationship once again
Relationship is a funny word, almost,
it is like we are on a ship, facing the tides and the currents
the smooth sailing -
but that never lasts, not really.

I leave the house and feel your eyes burning behind my back
you're not sure if I will come back -
because he didn't
but you've asked me to leave as it's now destroying you.
I'm not really sure what you mean because you've never properly explained not in a coherent way anyway.
All the words get lost
letters are muddles up and now there's a slanging match with words that aren't even in the dictionary,
I look them up later to check.

I've had enough
and so have you
some relationships don't last until the end instead they sail and drift away.

People pushing each other, fed up
They won't ever let, let up
Being fat *******, straight up
Stand between them, like break up.

Spinning heads on grownd
Slanging slurs profound
Laying curses that bond
People who themselves have not found

People hate when you being a challenge
Even less when you walking on the edge
Like stop being edgy, the ledge will cut your fingers
Lean on the edge less
I don't stress, I always lacked finesse
Everyday I care about my cringe less and less
My vape I caress, my fedora's a bless
I keep saying I'm thinking I'm the best
Not afraid to put it to a test

It ain't no contest
I watch the sunset
And drink from my wine set
Tip my hat and yeah I'm fat
And yeah at some things I'm pretty bad
But approach me
I'll coach thee
with no fee
Rehearse these
lessons for free

Man, I'll leave you on the ground lying
Foaming on the mouth without fighting
My rhymes are braggadocious
With ferocious one liners
Feel heroic come find us
Me and my boy honu
Hold the ******* phonu
We will effin bone you
We are known as chrome crew
Because we use chrome dude
Crudely eating ram, sweet
Like we eat the ***, ****
Honu is a gayest dude I know.
He layeth down for no hoes
He only layeth down for Bros
He only blows the ***** of pros.

Bodies going down in my city
Man I tell you it's ******
No lobbies or committees to combat
The epidemic of systemic genocide
Man I'm so tired
Of losing all my friends to dope
******* shoot it up
Snort it like coke
All up in their nose
If you're into popping pills
They got those too
***** lethal but it's legal
The government's got you boo
Get addicted want to quit it
hit the clinic get your fix in a minute
******'s a game
But only the pusha man is in it to win it
Cause the dope is slaying
Dealers don't give a **** about the implications
Of the drugs they slanging
Saying man come back I got more of that
Homie keep on banging
Family trees rearranging due to falling leaves
But as long as they stacking stacks
They'll perpetuate the perpetual disease
The illness is the illest
The realness is the realest
And if you feel this
Tell me what the deal is.

a lot of -ism is biased within an etymological framework; coupled soon, how darwinism can never attain a suffix of logic, as can biology never become bioism; contemplating the impulses of boa constrictors seems more pleasing to both ear and eye to understand, as it always would have seemed to appear: it being said - without guilt, conscience or self, but that rotten "economic" model, of communism.

logic begins with: the origin of words,
and how they morph -
as said:
an -ology is always lesser than
an -ism:
etymology overcomes darwinism,
sorry, you don't have to handle
theology, or the -ism of theos -
words speak words -
forms speak: square becomes
a square, and the rest is: a lost affair,
asking eric clapton to turn into
jeff buckley, while papa's not there:
with that being papa *tim...
      actually much of logic is
etymological...
          the origins of words sometimes
became histories...
    to say the least:
the name athena became the city athens,
while romulus and remus became rome,
st. petersburg came from
   sakt peter - sanctified peter -
  edinburgh, came from illicit edith -
of malcolm, half removed from
macbeth's choosing -
             are we so thus, so thus far
removed, from our weakened travesty
of making: encouraging history?!
    tell the germans of the icelandic orcas,
and how they hunt them,
and how the seas turn crimson akin
to biblical fables...
tell them, that there is a higher ground
to begin afresh, akin: to a new beginning...
that they might refresh their toiling
in scandi song, in scandinavian folk,
to allow this resurrection is almost
a travesty among my kin folk...
   but, one, worth minding, having an
execution;
darwinism already stated its primordial
origin, the form of ape,
    but with every -ism, there's an
-ology,
             terminological for starters,
etymology for making the ends meet...
i'm afraid that the suffix question
seeks not authentic pardon of presented
artefacts...
       since the origin of form,
in that platonic simplicity is laid
intact, unmoveable via an  atheistic orthodoxy,
we have to move our ways toward
an ingrained, deeper, beckoning...
let our history encounter an
etymological zeitgeist -
to source first meanings,
to source them as is much desired,
having finalised our: first & thereby only,
                           beginnings.
      so, given our beginnings being
a samson's un-moveable pillar of all things
know, for the temple to stand intact,
   can we at least perform a secondary
historical feat, of attending to etymological
explanations?
   and at least desire, a curbing
on anarchic slanging, curling language from
scholastic affirmation of kept culture
and practice,
       to assure the minor offence of
allowing the linguistic intactness -
   and that infamous serenity of ensuring
progress, by abiding to the sort of
cultural non-appropriation that
youth resides in?
  for i dare say, and dare believe in
enough to fear:
    should the integrity of language be
kept, as today it is "kept", i.e. un-kept,
it will become no medium worth
of eloquence,
namely, demeaningly: only a canvas,
of irritating bombast.

p.s.
i can salvage the germans from their **** past,
a song of paganism,
a song of the cultural "idiot",
a song prior to the current "foundation",
a song in memorandum -
      a meditation on the crow -
a meditation on the matter of snow -
a meditation on the grey skies of winter -
a meditation on beer & song -
to find the german of today,
is to strip the german of yesterday,
the yesterday of 2nd world war
foundation,
   and the tomorrow? looks
like reviving the romanticism that
came as the 19th century "post-scriptum":
the thought of the kid
who was to inform barbarossa
to wake up once in grave,
when a swarm of crows shattered
the silence of his graven passivity.

Grew up around the cholos
Told to be down for yours
Never had their **** together
Making up rules in their favor
Living by the rules of the street
Never cared for that life got in too deep
Some slanging to hustle easy money
Others banging to be territorial
Life or death life on the edge
Grew up hood always misunderstood
Called ghetto for keeping it real
Seen a crazy for standing your ground