Spirits, sages, mystics and wizards
shamans and charmers
voodoo, hoodoo...wanga and juju
and..
old old women- those teller of tales
weavers of dreams....casters of spells

Warnings of darkness and deepness
conjuring clues or readings
from spangled stars on black nights
Guidance on this spiritual journey... this mystical quest
Sunrise into sunset... dark into night

Answers to questions you never asked
Questions to answers
long buried in self shrouded past

There are those who would lead you
to dark alleys astray
Those who would steal your hearts diamonds,
your trust.. and betray

You hear whispers and rumors
strange tongues, and hushed voices... muffled sighs
You search for everything and nothing in the shadowy mist
What are true truths... what are lies?

Keep your eyes open..receive the whole
and know..
That real truth is sometimes
in the unexpected, the untold, the unwritten, the uncharted....

Like..
in the moment of exhale from one true kiss!

Me doops and me was woking da street in a bomba reggae style
When to me suprise a goodaz said com and ste a wile
Me doops say nii but me says yes
cause how can i refuse "no ***** dress"

Inside her bungaloo i went for da **** but tasted poo
Oh no i say, dat dont taste good, a ****** now i really shuld
Too late she says you got the Klanga!
now i wish i didnt bangha


Me days are long and ful of strife
I lost me kids and me wife
me nips do hurt and so my wanga
Buts thats the life
of a Bomba Klanga

Booted
The boss was a real fecking ****** who abused his position
Now he’s got the golden boot and is no longer there
But he goes to the company cark park to see his lieutenant
Who is just the same as him an equal seller more arrogant!

The original boss was quite a nice guy not a *******
It was his elite selling unit he set up that stunk of elitism
You’re not fecking fighter pilots so why the fake Godliness
It all stinks of ******* and **** licking all the way

Tong that far up the **** it comes outa their **** mouth
Who will fill the original boss’ boots will it be his lieutenant?
Who went to the same skool and was trained the same way
Instructions and orders are sent via messenger do this and that

Keep at it run the account my way this way I’m still there
My influence is like Uncle Joe Stalin always present and seeing
Give them Hell drove them to break to leave hire and fire ‘em
Still give me some wanga it’s my account even if I’m booted

Of concrete. Of scraped kissed knuckles
There again
infinitesimal ***** of flesh.
The bud, wrapped in a linen of ash.
Giving light, then withholding.
Like a mother’s feed, “pero cuidado de las chichis muy wanga”
Solo slabbing concrete
Without the creaks in the pavement
the city cannot breathe.

Docket Time
There is always something more on the cards
You think you have a full house and your enemy
Does something unexpected from his bad script
Written by amateurs and paid for by lunatics
Doing all they can to harm you and your interests
No more book files they deleted them due to that
The action I dared do against them the other day
For I carry my ******* ***** in my bag ready to go
Oppose them in all ways possible fit to lose
Just takes one chance to win be weak to be strong
Over the edge and loop back all’s fare in business
Or was my moan too big making my cards copy type?
Rip off rain runny ink degrades after three goes
I only need one attempt to lower your company
No longer top three number four busts you up
Not printed cash that’s so 20th Century!
Now its stocks shares interests and bonds
Ledger money written in real ink or electronic
All that wanga belongs to the big elites and NWO
Certain families run the world so we are all fine
Living in **** running up bills rent deposits finance
Nothing to help the working person except maudlin
Sombre poems by the gal before she kaputted
She’s my sis by a different mum you wankers!
Revenge will be mine so discreet creeping in
Like the new dawn you think its night when it’s night
Over to you come and see my sing live
I’ve no security my show is for you alone
What will you do when the end grabs you?
I dare you to be serene or actually react…

Battling TL Leaves B2B
The Fake God finally won the battle
The battling TL got booted out of the B2B account
She asked him how he would feel on it
It’s ok as we’re friends and you’re still here
You reported the Fake God for his six thou wanga
He got another rep to give him and he lost ninety four thou
When suspended that month tho he was finished
The call centre rescinded that and gave him a month rest
He came back as only he can do the job
You reported his lieutenant lap dog for dodgy upsells
The magic number is five users add four to the one you picked
Both are still there like pet dog and food bowl
You mark on the account is noted and in my poems
All the best on your reassignment
And stick with the army training too