Most can’t understand me, to be honest I don’t understand me either,
All because I won’t conform to all ya sheepish lizards.
Snaking each other in order to eat all the gizzards.
In a land where everyone is ******* bitter,
Spitting around their toxic chatter.
Last time I checked my business isn’t apart of your matters.
Last time I checked you were not my creator.
Thinking you know better,
Stop it I’m only filled with so much laughter.
To me your advice is like anime filler.
Womp, a womp womp like some Charlie Brown chatter.
And I don’t **** with snakes, I only **** with ladders.
They say Life is a board game that results from domino factors.
But if everything is by chance, then I’m ok with being seen as the mad hatter.
A conspiracy thinker, that goes outside the box to find more and better answers.
Instead of sitting on ones *** like the rest of yawl wankers.
That be crying about the **** I spit, but sorry I don’t make music for ******* toddlers.
If you want family friendly entertainment go watch Mr.Rodgers.
And if you keep acting like a little *****, I’ll have to get you a shock collar.
For most of yawl are second rate bug zappers.
And I am the beyonder.
Your nick miller.
I’m the Undertaker.
Your Rob Schneider.
I’m Christopher Plummer.  
Hook:
Look We ain’t in the same league,
You best believe, don’t **** with my expertise.
Yawl ain’t real, yawl fake as a weave.
I’m the Havarti, your the blue cheese.
You can’t measure up to me.
So back off, with all your pathetic critiques.
And just respect the technique.
Verse 2:
Respect the technique or prepare to take heat.
Smoked out and hung from one’s feet.
Ain’t no way to opt-out as I won’t fall for your deceit.
Do you think I’m fresh from the teet?
For I’m not one you can simply defeat.
Or be blind sided by all your *******.
Why can’t you see?
Why do you lean on Ignorance?
******* around, drugged out, like Charlie sheen.
Why do you fake innocence?
We are all ugly on the inside?
But a lot of yawl ugly on the outside too!
I guess some people can’t escape or hide?
Escape or hide from what is actually true.
Ooohhh!
From what is true.
Hating on my technique.
Hating that unlike you I’m actually unique.
Hating that I have the courage to not be a sheep.
Consuming the feed the media forces into you and me.
Getting us addicted to toxicity, in order to not say a little peep.
Can’t you see we are not actually free?
Can’t you see you’re overdosing on deceit?
If only you weren’t to blind to see.
You might just learn to respect the technique.
Hook:
Look We ain’t in the same league,
You best believe, don’t **** with my expertise.
Yawl ain’t real, yawl fake as a weave.
I’m the Havarti, your the blue cheese.
You can’t measure up to me.
So back off, with all your pathetic critiques.
And just respect the technique.

Dancin'  shadow on dat wall,
white-blues-boy sing yawl song,
harmonica cry, guitar scream,
to dat beat beat so sweet song,
dat dancin' shadow is ah swayin'
in ma head.
Yawl blues echo like dat shiftin' breeze
and shiftin' bayou winds in time dat blow
so sweet, like da shiftin' silt and sounds on breezy thoughts
about red fiery dusks.
Yawl black shadow on dat wall
dances like dah vanchee* in heat.
Clamorous mixture is dat beat
frum dat white-blues-boy smooth-song
dat fills dat *** in heat of vanchee*calls
and his shiftin' black silhouette on dat wall,
dat smooth-song black man yawl becum...


RW Dennen (c)  2008

There it was on the calendar, Saturday May 11,2013. Big red circle around the date and written in black pen in the middle…SPELLING BEE. Plain as day, you couldn’t miss it. One of the biggest days of the school year for geeks and nerds alike.





Today was the day. In two hours, The 87th Annual Cross Cultural Twin Counties Co-Educational Public School Spelling Bee, would begin.  This was a huge event in the history of Thomas Polk Elementary School. It would be one of the biggest, if not THE BIGGEST in the history of The Twin Counties.



There would be twenty-one schools represented with their best and brightest spellers. The gymnasium would be full of parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and media representatives. Yes, invitations had been sent out to both of the local papers in The Twin Counties, and both had replied in the affirmative. Real media, in Thomas Polk Elementary School, with a shared photographer….the big time had come to town.



Inside the gymnasium, work had been going on all night in preparation of the big event. The Teachers Auxiliary Group had set up bunting across the stage, purple and white of course, for the school colours. The school colours were actually purple and cream, but, there was a wedding at Our Lady of The Weeping Sisters Baptist Church later, and they had emptied the sav-mart of all of the cream coloured bunting and crepe paper. So, white it would be.



It looked spectacular. There were balloons tied to the basketball net at the south end of the gym. It wouldn’t wind up after the last game, so something had to be done to hide it. Balloons fit the bill. There was three levels of benches on the stage for the competitors, a microphone dead center stage and two 120 watt white spot lights aimed at the microphone.  Down in front, was a judges table, also covered in bunting and crepe, with a smaller microphone sitting in the middle. There was a cord connecting it to the stage speaker system, taped to the gym floor with purple duct tape, just to fit in. Big time, big time.



The piece de resistance sat at the right side of the judges table. An eight foot high pole, with an electronic stop watch and two traffic lights, donated from the local public utilities commission, in red and green. The timer had been rigged up by the uncle of one of the competitors, possibly to gain an advantage, to help keep the judges honest in their timings. Besides, it looked fancy, and it had a cool looking remote control.











The gym was filled to capacity. One hundred and Seventy Five Entrants, visitors, judges and media were crammed into plastic chairs, benches, and whatever lawn chairs the Teachers Auxiliary were able to borrow, that weren’t being used for the wedding at the Baptist Church. It was time to begin….



The three judges came in from the left of the clock, and sat down. The entrants were all nervously waiting on stage on the benches. The media representatives were down front, for photo opportunities, of course.



Judge number one, in the middle of the table clicked on the microphone in front of him and turned to the crowd. In doing so, he spilled his water on his notes and pulled the duct tape loose on the floor in front.



“Greetings, and welcome to the 87th Annual Cross Cultural Twin Counties Co-Educational Public School Spelling Bee.” There was some mild clapping from the family members, along with a few muffled whistles and two duck calls from the back. The weak response was due to the fact that most of the parents either had small fans (due to the heat), donated from the local Funeral Home, or hot dogs and beer (from the tailgating outside), in their hands. Needless to say, it was still a positive response.



The judge carried on…”Today’s competition brings together the top spellers in the region of the Twin Counties to do battle on our stage. All of the words used today, have been selected from a number of sources, including Webster’s Dictionary, from our own school library, Words with Friends from the inter web, keeping up with modern culture, and finally from two books of Dr. Suess that we had lying around the office. Each competitor will get one minute to answer once his or her word has been selected. We ask that you please refrain from applause until after the judges have confirmed the spelling, and please no help to the competitors. We now ask that you all turn off any electronic media, cell phones, pagers, etc. so we can begin”.



He then turned to the stage and asked all competitors to remove their cell phones and put them in the bright orange laundry basket, usually reserved for floor hockey sticks. Each student deposited their phones, all one hundred and thirty-seven of them in the basket.  We were ready to start.





“Competitor number one…please approach the microphone and state your name and your school” said Judge number two. Judge number two would be in charge of calling the students up, it seemed. She was the librarian at Thomas Polk. She had typical librarian glasses, with the silver chain attached to the arms, flaming red hair, done up in a bee hive uplift, just for the event, and was called Miss Flume. She was married, but, being the south, she was always addressed as Miss.



The first student advanced to the front of the stage. She had bright pink hair, held in place with a gold hairband, black shoes, and a yellow jumper. She looked like a walking number 2 pencil. The two duck calls came from the back of the gymnasium along with scattered applause. All three judges turned and looked to the back, and then turned to face the young girl.



“My name is Bobbie Jo Collister, I am a senior at Jackson Williams School of Fine Arts and Music”. “Thank you Bobbie Joe” said Miss Flume. Bobbie Jo, smiled nervously and put on her glasses. “Your word is horticulture” announced Judge number one, “horticulture”.  Bobbie Jo took a breath and without asking for a definition, usage, root of the word or anything, just ripped through it without fail in three point two seconds, according to the mammoth timepiece at the end of the table. After conferring, the judges clicked on the green street light and she sat down, amidst more duck calls and clapping.



Student number two went through the entire process as did students three through eight. Each one had glasses, no surprise there, and were all dressed in monochromatic themes. Together, they looked like a life sized box of crayolas ready for a halloween party. Each child spelled their words correctly and were subsequently cheered and applauded.



Student nine then approached the microphone, stopping about a good seven feet short and three feet right of it. “My name is Oliver Parnocky” squeaked the lad. “I go to George W. Bush P.S 19 and am a senior.” Miss Flume, grabbed the small mike in front of her and said “Oliver…put on your glasses and move over to the microphone.” She leaned into the other judges, and said “He goes to my school, he doesn’t like wearing them much, and he’s always outside at recess talking to the flagpole after everyone else has come inside”.



“Oliver, please spell Dichotomy” said Judge number one. Judge two started the clock and they waited….and waited…then out burst this voice….DICHOTOMY…D I C H O T O M E E, , no, wait..D I C K O….****!” The crowd erupted in laughter, Oliver was busted. The judges conferred, and after informing poor Oliver they had never heard it spelled quite that way with an O **** at the end, they triggered the red light and Oliver left the stage to sit in the audience with his folks.



The next three kids, all with glasses, like it was part of an unwritten uniform dress code for the day, all advanced and sat down. The next entrant, number thirteen, luckily enough stood from the back and struggled down to the front of the stage. There were gasps and some snickering from the crowd. She was taller than the previous competitors,  and a little more pregnant as well. “Please state your name” said Miss Flume. “My name is Betty Jo Willin and am a senior at

Buford T. Pusser Parochial School”. At this announcement there was a cheer of “Got Wood at B.T. Pusser” from the crowd. The judges turned, asked for silence and the offending nuns returned to their seats. “Miss Willin, how old are you exactly?” asked Judge number one. “Twenty Two sir”. “And you say you are a senior?” “Yes sir” came the reply. Betty Jo was shuffling a bit as the pressure on her bladder must have been building standing there in her delicate condition. After conferring, judge number one said “That sounds about right, your word is PROPHYLACTIC”. The few people in the crowd that knew the meaning of the word laughed, while the rest continued eating their hot dogs and drinking their sodas and beers. “Please give a definition sir..I don’t believe I know that word”. The judges looked at each other with a definite “I’m not surprised” look and rattled off the definition. When she asked for usage, the judges really didn’t know what to do. Should they give a sentence using the word or explain the usage of a prophylactic, which regardless would have been too late anyway.

After a modicum of control was reached, she attempted the word, getting all tongue tied and naturally messing it up. The red light was triggered and she left the stage.



More strange outfits, bowties, hair nets, jumpers, clip on ties, followed. It looked like a fashion parade from Goodwill and The Salvation Army rolled into one. Most attempted their words and were green lighted onwards to the next round, while those who failed, were red lighted back to the crowd and the tailgate party in the parking lot. As each competitor was eliminated, the betting board that was being manned outside by one father was updated with new odds and payouts.



The first round was approaching an end with only three kids left. “Number nineteen please approach and state your name” said Miss Flume. He plume of red hair was starting to sag and was sliding slowly off of her head due to the humidity in the gymnasium.



Number nineteen came forth, glasses, tape across the bridge like half of the previous spellers. He was wearing the most colourful shirt that any of the judges had ever seen. It was not from Dickies, they surmised. “I go to J.J. Washington P.S 117 and my name is Mujibar Julinoor Parkhurloonakiir”. The judges froze. He obviously was new to the district. They had never heard a name like that before, ever. Not even in Ghandi. This was a powerful name. There had been sixteen cominations of Bobby, Bobbie, Billie, Jo, Joe, Jimmy, Jeff, Johnson and Jackson prior to Mujibar. Stunned, judge one asked “Son, can you spell that please?”

Mujibar, not sure what to do, spelled his name, unsure of why he was being asked to do so. “Thank you son” said Miss Flume. The odds on the betting board in the parking lot changed right then.



“That boy is gonna win fer sure” said Jimmy Jeff Willerkers. Jimmy Jeff ran the filling station two concessions over and had fifty bucks on his nephew Bobby Jeff, who had already flamed out on “yawl”. “How was he supposed to know  it had something to do with boats?” asked Jimmy Jeff. “That Mujibar is gonna win…jeez, he’s been spelling that name for years….anything else is gonna be easy breezy.” The odds went down on Mujibar and the money was flying around that parking lot faster than the rumour that the revenue people were out looking for stills in the woods.



“Mujibar…please spell SALICIOUS”…asked the now red pancake headed Miss Flume. Doing as he was told, Mujibar, spelled the word, gave the root, a definition and a brief history of the word usage in modern literature. Judge number one was furiously scribbling down notes, and trying to figure out how he would get a bet down on this kid before round two started.



Entrant number twenty from Jefferson Davis Temple and Hebrew school advanced which brought up the final entrant from round one. “Number Twenty-One please advance to the front of the stage”. After adjusting his glasses, after all he didn’t want a repeat of what poor Oliver did, he approached. “My name is C.J. Kay from William Clinton P.S 68” Judge one, confused by the young man’s name asked him to repeat it. “C.J. Kay” said C.J. “What is your full last name boy, you can’t just have a letter as your last name….what is the K for?” “Sir, my last name is Kay”, said C.J. “It’s not a letter”. “It most certainly is son…H I J K L…rattled off judge one. “It has to stand for something, you just can’t be CJK, that sounds like a Canadian radio station or worse yet, one of them hippy hoppy d.j fellers my granddaughter listens to. What is the K for?”. C.J said sir “My name is Christopher John Kay… not K, Kay” and then spelled it out. This only confused judge one more than he already was, and the extra time figuring out his name was doing nothing to Miss Flume’s hairdo.



“Christopher John….please spell MEPHISTOPHOLES “ said Judge one, after realizing he was never going to find out what the K was for. The crowd was getting restless and wanted to get to the truck to get re-filled and change their bets. C.J. knocked it out of the park in 2.7 seconds…”faster than Lee Harvey Oswald at a target shoot in Dallas”, one man said.



After a ten minute break, to get drinks, ***, re-tape some glasses and prop up Miss Flumes ruined plumage round two was set to begin. This went faster as the words were getting tougher, although randomly selected, judge one was inserting a few new words to keep his chance of winning with Mujibar alive. PALIMONY, ARCHEOLOGY, PARSIMONIOUS, TRIPTOTHYLAMINE , and many other words were thrown at the competitors. Each time the list of successful spellers was reduced, and the amount of clapping and the duck calls were less.

The seventh round began with just Mujibar, B.J. Collister and C. J Kay left. Before the round began the judges reminded the crowd that the words were random, and to please keep the cheering until the green light had been lit. There were more duck calls at this announcement and very little applause. Jerry Jeff was still manning the betting board, the tailgate barbeque was done, and there was only about thirty people left in the gymnasium.



The balloons on the basketball net had long since lost their get up and go, and were now hanging limply like coloured rubber scrotums and were flatter that Miss Flumes hair, which incidently, was now starting to streak the right side of her face from sweat washing out the dye. She was beginning to look like an extra in a zombie film with a brilliant orange red streak across her forehead.



“C.J.” said judge one, “please spell ARYTHMOMYACIN”. C.J. gave it a valiant effort ,but unfortunately was incorrect and the red light sent him off to the showers. This left B.J. Collister and the odds on favourite, Mujibar. The crowd was down to twenty seven now, Bobbie Jo’s folks and Mujibars immediate family.



Round after round were completed with neither one missing a word. Neither one blinked. It was a gunfight where both shooters died. These two were good, and it was never going to end. Judge one leaned over and told the other judges, “we have to finish this soon….I’m due at the wedding over to the Baptist church for nine o’clock to bless the happily marrieds and drive them both to the airport. They’re off to Cuba for their honeymoon.” The others agreed…”C.J. please spell MINISCULE said Miss Flume”. She did so, without a problem. This caused judge one to yell out “Holy Christmas” just as Mujibar got to the microphone. Thinking this was his word, he started as the judges were giving him his word. Seizing the opportunity to end it…judge one woke up judge three who red lighted poor Mujibar, ending his run at spelling immortality. “Sorry son, you tried, but, today a Mujibar lost and a B.J won.”. Before he tried to correct himself, knowing what he had just said didn’t sound quite right, Miss Flume congratulated both finalists and began the award presentations.



Thankfully, next year the eighty eighth version of The Annual Cross Cultural Twin Counties Co-Educational Public School Spelling Bee will be in the other county. Now the job of sorting out the cell phones in the orange basket begins. By the way, Betty Jo Willin had a boy …you can just guess what she named it!

Sentenced to the hygienist, because I got that Indian virus.
Wish I was more like Leonidas, for my warrior self was vanquished.
Got a sense of anguish, as I don’t even know my own people’s Language.
Why did I get banished from my own land, and these immigrants now hold thee advantage?
Feels like they on a witch hunt, ain’t life a ***** huh?  
Can’t even make a quick buck, because I’m seen as a stupid ****.
Feel like a sitting duck with the ****** locked, **** is this the feeling of a cuck?
Stories always end up sad but Afterall I’m just the ******* of the brady bunch!
Brown skin cursed kin and a desperate sin so I gotta eat outta garbage’s for lunch.
Trying not to use victimization as a crutch,
but it’s like I’m a kid who got tricked into a game of double Dutch.
Crazy braided brain, deranged rabid rabbit spewing train going down a road of pain.
Come on yawl don’t you want to see the freak from cirque de soleil?
Trying in vain to wash away my shame, but the colour of my skin just won’t go away, oh what a shame!
So, I’m left crying and thinking about dying, hoping to be anything…
that may stray away from my family name.
For I’ve realized that I’m stigmatized by the whitened eyes:
that be educating lies of me being the one to blame.

No more will I be ok with this forced recital!
No more will I sit idle!
No more patriarchy, and **** the curse of ham nonsense used to justify you being spiteful!
**** your racist sentiments man, my colour doesn’t make me homicidal.

Brown clown, Down syndrome gnome!
Torn men, torn women left in prison zones!
Burn them, **** them, **** them right in they home!
Don’t frown, don’t make a sound, just stay on the ground.
Hands behind heads, then shot with lead, like a dog from the pound!
Lost and never found, but this just the curse of being brown!
What’s this now?
Nothing but wards of the crown.
Just a *****, just a glitch, that live in some crack towns!
Or reserves doesn’t matter what the word
Or what the place is when one puts on war paint on top of their savage faces.
Here’s the thing *****, I’m not scared of staring ya down #okacrisis!
For as see it colonists are no different than isis.
I know we deal with vices,
But it’s just the effects of dealing with your hepatitis!
And I just might be bias,
But at least I’m not a delusional racist!
It doesn’t matter if it’s Past, present or future violence,
I think it’s about time to end the silence!

So much not yet accomplished, I still want to leave yawl astonished. I promise to give it my all and try not to fall. I love yawl, I need yawl, I want yawl to hear me and see me for what I am and join me on this free fall.  Release everything holding you back, don't be beaten by the obstacles and demons that try to block you, or attack you. If I die tonight, I pray the world to be all right, if I die tonight, I hope my message never loses sight. If I die young, may the people I’ve reached stay strong. If I die young, may you not stay numb with emotion, if I go before my time may you not get any suicidal notions! It is what it is, this just apart of living, this is why I keep giving, and though things seem to be reeling, a helping hand is all I need for healing. Ashes to ashes, message to reach the masses; taking yawl through some moral classes. Classy J I will not always be here to stay, but I make sure to live each day like it was my last day. If I die young I will be among friends and family, a place where we are no longer burdened by this toxic humanity. If I die may we never say goodbye, if I die to early please don't cry. Remember me for who I was or used to be, life happens man, there are bound to be fatalities. Live life, love life, be happy and make the most of this life. Because you'll never know which day could be your last, and life can go by so fast. So take a breath every now and again, be yourself and make some friends.

They call me the smartest *****; they look at me like they would at Sauron.  Maybe I am just destined to be defined like an oxymoron, and also why do people shut their doors on me like I was a Mormon. Did I make the right choice when I took the blue pill and moved into Zion? Don’t know how to feel or who or what I should rely on. Bygones are bygones, got to follow the drill, so best not pull any funny ones. Being spied on, got no where to run, after all when your under a dictatorship there is no time for fun, there is only time to train one how to shoot a gun. Blang blam got a cross on fire on my lawn from the dreaded Ku Klux ****.  One extreme to another, what happened to Jesus’s teachings of how we are all heavenly sisters and brothers? **** the American dream; **** this apparent land of the free where anyone from anywhere can attain cream. Not a joke so turn this into a meme, this is serious if you only saw the things which some claim as the unseen.

Open your mind; don’t bind yourself to devilish things that appear kind. Charging up my chakra, hypnotizing you with my words like I’m the unclaimed child of Big Poppa. I am so waka I get yawl flocking to my flame, my bars aint **** yeah they as lit as Mary Jane. Bulking up like Bain, natural leader and I got a big brain. Some stalker ******* get so shady, thinking that I will spend my gravy, or that I will have their baby. Sorry I am not interested in getting rabies or taking a taste of your dead daisy. This is my loot; ***** the only thing I’ll give you is the boot. Scoot away from me, best stray by the bay before I write a restraining order on thee.  What is this world coming to? Harold be it that we stuck in a rut with a storm beginning to brew.  

People say I should stop drinking because I got family duties and responsibilities but I drink because I have to deal with the stress from family duties and responsibilities.  **** it all; **** my *****, better duck down because one punch and you’ll fall. Got the gall, Pokémon master man **** right I’m about to catch them all! I’m super and I like to smash bro, so better hide your ***** and your side **. Classically unclassified, mentally traumatized from a fall out of a genocide. Time to be unfiltered; rhyming from a heart that used to be good but now has been altered. Maybe I am just an oxymoron, just a sly fox that know how to survive because no matter what my hope for a better world will stay strong. I may live in this world but I am not of it, I may continue to give until I decide to say ah **** it! Isn’t it ironic? Isn’t the whole point of being a rapper to make a profit and strive to rap as fast as the speed of sonic? Let me puff some **** and drink till I’m subatomic. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Wouldn’t that be something if I chose to become like everyone else and live out a life of being toxic. So am I ironic or am I just an oxymoron? Don’t give a **** either way because I am iconic and will take anything you haters bring on!

Diving into bath salts, raving flue that is as sicking as math, at least that is what I conclude from my findings presented to the court. Objection, objection, sir I don't see the connection, maybe your rhyme scheme needs perfection. Maybe it does, but ***** it, I'm blessed by God; baby please sit down and take a chill pill and just enjoy this buzz. Busting off, so back off, bout to prove my case like I’m Ace Attorney, oh and I know it’s off topic but if I lived in America, I would’ve voted for Bernie. What the **** am I on? Came to save the digital world you can call me a digimon, you bet I’m a champion! Serendipity dear deputy; I’ll be typically wittingly searching for some tranquility. What is the validity of this vicinity as I only accept notability and won’t let this become a liability!

Pathologically paraplegic hypochondriac with insomniac who be popping poems profusely perfect; while whimsically worm's try to be strategic, but sadly choke and lose it. Miles set apart; it certainly is not a strut in some park, but everyone has to start somewhere before they engrave their mark. Don't reside yourself to just being a silhouette, nor be one to toot your clarinet. Two sides to every person like Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde; be careful to not let your pride turn into carbon monoxide. For pride will always lead to your downfall, so please take off your iron curtain and tear down your Berlin wall. Improvident incongruous incredulous confidence; underwhelming astonishment of such fundaments of these heinous and callous acts of deceitfulness. Trickery of thy decadence; why art though jittery when you are full of benevolence? So used to getting what you want I bet; well this situation can not be fixed by dough, so I see why you are in a cold sweat! Fake confidence won't help you here especially when one lies; you made a mistake and will face the consequences and I am not one quick to forgive no matter how much you apologize.  

Don’t have time to consider your sensibility, because my life is going a twitter with too much hyperactivity for me to deal with your stupidity. Befittingly that I’ll be building up the intensity, to infinity and beyond goes this creativity of this anomaly. Not going to prolong this phenomenon, I’ll be going off like a Molotov over this intercom, yeah you better not ever underestimate this underdog. Lackadaisical are these other rappers; they’re so replaceable and incapable to be educational. Incomprehensible is this loop of hip-hop now a days, why can’t we be inspirational or is it to late because we left morals and substance back in the olden days. Can’t afford to be anchored anymore, I’ve poured in too much time to be just be locked behind some door. I refuse to be ignored and be left ashore; I am not worried about going into the storm; because you are bound to come across some things that need some work like chores. Spinning the wheel, reminiscing of how it felt when I no longer concealed who I was and my self-image had been healed.

Used to be reclusive & convinced myself that I was a duffass, but now I’m exclusive to being a smart ***. This is the new era, this is a new fire; it’s time to spice things up so better pull out the sriracha. Leading the revolution like I’m Che Guevara, I’m light as feather whatever the endeavor even if my life story doesn’t end up as pristine as Cinderella’s. Why so infatuated by worldly wants? Why so decorated when you can't hide the fact that you're the same basic *** font? Trying be something else, striving to be someone else, wanting to be anything else. You are who you are, if you think it will make things better you cucu, because in my eyes you are really a star. You have to expand your interpretation and perspective of life, you have to demand without hesitation a piece of that collective pie; because I believe everyone should be equal in this life.

Calculated bullets that go straight through my cranium; manufactured outlets that show great things but have also turned us into brainless aliens. Complicated hookups that grow irritating and become as unstable as uranium; what was once sacred has become as spontaneous as going to a gymnasium. Confiscated trinkets cast away and leaves those affected very irritate; while also simultaneously making apathetic souls that have gone through the same thing be able to understand, help or relate. Cultivated rebellious culprits that don't take the memo of being cooperative, instead they choose to be provocative and opposite of the other conglomerates. I’m so fascinated by this fabricated segregated supposedly liberated and sophisticated community; where-as some so foolishly stupidly amusingly think that everyone has the same equal chance at opportunity. Moderated, regulated and orchestrated where some are situated; if you don’t think that it has something to do with be affiliated to a certain demographic then maybe you never got educated in the affairs of those discriminated. It’s a good thing then that class is in session; so viewer or listener  please use discretion when taking time to witness or hear my position. Deafening out all ill whims; wrestling with these unsettling menacing fears and guilt from all of my sins.

Yeah no need for hallucinogens, all I need is two hydrogens and one oxygen. Rocking in my moccasins; so you can bet I am not one to drop my promises. Native honour who is also a innovative scholar and who was created not to falter. I may not be good with numbers, but I'm good at making sure you never slumber on my words; because I work on them day and night in my 36 chambers. Beware the pretender, they are manufactured by the vendors to keep us from being together. Defend your heart; be wise who you befriend and who you pick for your counterpart. There will be hurt and affection can be perverted, so know your worth and never ever let yourself be distorted. It is not your fault, it is not my fault, so then who is at fault? Is it just life in general? Is it because of the being who lives eternal? Is it all of the above? I don't know, but we shouldn't judge and instead choose to accept and love!

Pardon me Martin, but if this class were a prison I’d be the warden. I make the rules here and I took the tools given to me to get me here. So listen, please listen to my lesson that I have to present to you as class is still in session. Loading yawl with ammunition to be able to transition to be able to complete your goals or missions. No I’m not tripping, I’m driven  by a higher force to break away the old ways of thinking such as division. This is not the prohibition anymore, so please open your minds and join me on this expedition. Going into the unknown, so here’s to hoping you get through this, as time goes on and be able to look back at it we may feel like this was no more than a tiny but important milestone.  Achieve, believe, conceive, receive, intrigue, and succeed because I think you are unique. You are the only you in the whole galaxy, don’t let agony turn into tragedy; ***** anxiety; yeah and never let your dreams just be some fantasy.

Outro: Sit down class ain't over yet, forfeit those frowns or fake faint or try to jet. Lastly remember what transpired today; don't go hastily and forget about it on December break okay? For though class may be over, more days or years to come until its finally over. Though education ends, one never stops learning even on vacations with family or friends.  I hope you can look back with fondness, I hope you can stay on track in the future if you truly take the time to just focus. Is there truly an end or is this just the beginning to a new bend.

O-o-ah-ah, brain has gone bananas, no-no don’t touch the lava- lava.  Jumping around, monkeying around, sometimes you have to let loose and mess around. If fun is a crime then put my neck round the noose, lighten up and if your cheap, don’t worry I got some grey goose. Come in and be my bunk buddy, if you hit the skunk, I don’t mind as long as you are not tardy to the party. ****, this is my jam; my friends to me are my true FAM.  Curiosity mixed with personality, every now and again I find myself getting naughty. It’s that time for the beat to make you rock with us, couple more drinks, and you’ll be ready to party with us. Classy J the future class, got the intellect to respect, other wise I will flatten you on your ***.  

Bull dozing through so yawl better move, don’t care if you cozy, got to show me you’re groove. Not joking around, do I look like a clown, take yawl to the pound and take this corrupt society down. Wow, this is new, who knew, that I could be as fresh as mountain dew, too wicked of a leader that there is no need for a cue. Good luck? Don’t need it, don’t even believe in it, I’m good with continually trudging on through this ****.  I got perseverance on my side, my appearance I will no longer hide. I got abilities, I adapt to my situation no matter the facility.  Don’t **** my mojo, hopping over all yaw with my pogo, let go of my leg yo, got a craving for some eggos.  So agile, yeah I built up defenses yet I still find myself scatter apart because everyone is a bit fragile. So kind, so generous, a role model to get behind, have to expand your bubble by being adventurous.

Hard hitting all yawl with real honesty, every time I write I throw out something out my closet and get more in tuned with my responsibility.  What is my priority, do I have a healthy anatomy, and am I truly acting out my ideology. Used to be easily frustrated, it didn’t take much to activate my buttons to make me aggravated. Now though I let my anger evaporate, now I have a mentally sound state.  I am at the stage of my life where I just say **** it, why should I really give a ****. Why should I let insecure fools get to me, why should I be anything more than who I choose to be.  My greatest strength and weakness is being loyal and faithful, it’s hard not to be hurt by betrayal, especially with people close to you; yeah that to me is even more disdainful. I see the good in people, I always believe that one day they may move on to their sequel. That’s why I always stress for yawl to be ambitious and confident, the rewards will be delicious as long as you are not fraudulent.

**** had me torn, **** had me scorned; I'm one of the few people who knows how it feels to have on a crown of thorns. Scars on my hands, scars on my feet, had so many plans but they all are now obsolete. Beaten outwardly and inwardly, never had the liberty to be anything more, just a lamb in a world full of carnivores. I am not a God; I am just a man that constantly gets beaten by a rod. The rod of guilt, the rod of shame, I'm starting to wilt, and I got no one left to blame. Faking smiles while dealing with depression, dead on the inside, and barren outside by all the oppression. Just a frame for the bigger picture, maybe instead of focusing on fame, I should've focused on the scriptures. No I don't want to hear your lecture, not here to be a fisher of men, my structure is fine enough dear sir.

Now in conjunction let’s us say amen, let’s us stop with the pretend, this is our time to amend our past mayhem. Bruises on my skin, bruises on my bones, trying not to tailspin, trying to control my hormones. You don't need Sherlock Holmes to figure this **** out, there is no need to doubt, that it is not fun being treated like an expired trout. Can't you see these scars? Oh yeah that's right you to busy looking at the stars! Scars opened up by unlocking the wrong doors, scars piling up from all the years of being treated like a *****. Scars won by wars, scars from running through the fire, scars from peer pressure, and scars from all the held back tears.

So many scars, feels like I’m not even human, yeah I swear I'm an alien from mars. 'Hey, people have it worse than you', well that may be true, it's all relative until it happens to you! Do you know what I've been through? Do you know what it's like being in an environment of lions, when you're a caribou? That's right you have no clue, the worst thing some of yawl ever faced has been the flu. Where-as there is me, who no one takes the time of day to hear or see. Where-as there is me, the one everyone tried to treat because they thought I was a disease. Where-as there is me, and only me, nothing more than one of those 'natives' or in this case 'Cree'. Can't you see my scars? Were you not listening to these bars? Do I have to drop down on all fours for some exposure? Cause when you need help I am one of the first ones to be your boulder.

They say pain won't last, they say that I can get over it in other ways other than constantly getting smashed. Some say that the forecast will clear, that there is nothing to truly fear except for fear. Some scars don't heal, some leave you with Ptsd and if something sets you off you can relive that pain wheel. I wear my scars like they a badge, not prepared to throw it in the trash. My scars make me who I am, it's just another thing in my program. My scars help me relate with others with the same scars, it helps me realize that I'm not the only one dealing with these scars.

Classy J going array, with such sassy display to you’re overbearing dismay. Blasting off today, I’m as cool as sorbet, but yet as hot as soufflé. Everlasting eternities as the cycle goes on for humanity, where some live for the moment and others search for divinity. ****** prey wanting me on their tray, the only thing I’ll give you is the direction to the doorway. Rick Ashley stray’s, I’ll throw yawl back out in the alleyway. Future class, never ever low on gas, if you mess with me, I’ll shatter you like glass. I’ll use a computer bypass, to shove a virus up your ***, not to be played with, bro don’t you know that I’m bats. I don’t butcher the masses, or overburden you like taxes, I’m just your average Joe trying to make good of all this blackness.

Not a sore loser, nor a party pooper dear querying lass, I stand my ground; yeah you bet I got ***** of brass. While some of yawl puff the grass, this creature is trying to cure the world’s tumor created by us jack assess. Don’t run on flats, tackling my demons to the mat, yeah I have gotten through life by crawling down its crevasse! Don’t listen to rumors, some call me a trooper, you have to learn how to maneuver all haters and accusers. Living life by focusing on the hourglass, I’m not one to sit idle peeping out the looking glass. But forget all of that because life is nuts, and I’m just an outlet that slams the hard truth to your guts. Enough with your meaningless chitchat, I’m done with all yawl fretting and *******, time to buck up pussycats. Your listening to a lyrical architect, don’t have time for rats or insects, this is just apart of the classy effect.

I don’t make threats, don’t you forget I make promises that will eventually be met. I’m just a twisted afflicted un-constricted gifted individual who tries his best not to be too cynical. It’s so inconceivable but yet so believable, not your typical rapper, yeah I got principal. I am always original, I am a mystical miracle; yeah I’ll be making sure you know I’m no longer going to be invisible. Beat the odds, unlike all these frauds, I know my place, I’m definitely not a God. Heated rods of critics who keep on trying to burn me, but it just feels like a thorn to me. Street with needs to meet, used to the odds, so don’t think we’ll grovel at your feet. We are not mincemeat, we are not just going to take a backseat, we stubborn as concrete, yeah we are not going to retreat.

Privileged trying to turn us neat and tidy, without them they say we incomplete, that even though we coloured we should strive to be just another ignorant whitey. Don’t you know it’s all about image? We are savages, yet they are the one’s who diseased and burned down our villages. No I don’t seek forgiveness from wily coyotes, we are not a showpiece, like some kind of conquest trophy. No I’m not finished, is there something wrong with your psyche, naughty sly feisty vermin that itch like poison ivy. I politely tell you to ****, love the irony of your fear and hate of aliens, when you yourselves came to this land from a ship, which to us was a UFO. Anyways like I said, I may go off on different tangents or phases, because there are places one needs to tread. I like to educate airheads, I like to make em red; yeah I don’t leave things unsaid.
I want to unthread this sideways planet, if you’re looking for someone who doesn’t mince words; well I’m your prime candidate.

E-town is what I represent, legacy I will cement, rap game I came to resurrect. Let’s rundown the extent of these frequent fallacious formalities, those auto-tuned drugged up wangsters that are the definition of distasteful unoriginality. I frown upon the dissent of where rap ended up, it sure need a classy clean up. I know music is subjective that it is all in perspective, but to me this garbage kids listen to is far from impressive. I find trap music ineffective and unreflective, I don’t respect something so obstructive. That’s just my two cents, and though to me it makes no sense, others may not agree and still listen to that senseless content. What I’m trying say is opinions are like *******, everyone got one, but that’s what makes us unique souls. This is just a part of the classy effect, can’t wait for what happens next, can’t wait for changes to manifest.

I
Go on, high ship, since now, upon the shore,
The snake has left its skin upon the floor.
Key West sank downward under massive clouds
And silvers and greens spread over the sea. The moon
Is at the mast-head and the past is dead.
Her mind will never speak to me again.
I am free. High above the mast the moon
Rides clear of her mind and the waves make a refrain
Of this: that the snake has shed its skin upon
The floor. Go on through the darkness. The waves. fly back

II
Her mind had bound me round. The palms were hot
As if I lived in ashen ground, as if
The leaves in which the wind kept up its sound
From my North of cold whistled in a sepulchral South,
Her South of pine and coral and coraline sea,
Her home, not mine, in the ever-freshened Keys,
Her days, her oceanic nights, calling
For music, for whisperings from the reefs.
How content I shall be in the North to which I sail
And to feel sure and to forget the bleaching sand ...

III
I hated the weathery yawl from which the pools
Disclosed the sea floor and the wilderness
Of waving weeds. I hated the vivid blooms
Curled over the shadowless hut, the rust and bones,
The trees likes bones and the leaves half sand, half sun.
To stand here on the deck in the dark and say
Farewell and to know that that land is forever gone
And that she will not follow in any word
Or look, nor ever again in thought, except
That I loved her once ... Farewell. Go on, high ship.

IV
My North is leafless and lies in a wintry slime
Both of men and clouds, a slime of men in crowds.
The men are moving as the water moves,
This darkened water cloven by sullen swells
Against your sides, then shoving and slithering,
The darkness shattered, turbulent with foam.
To be free again, to return to the violent mind
That is their mind, these men, and that will bind
Me round, carry me, misty deck, carry me
To the cold, go on, high ship, go on, plunge on.

Whose women these are I think I know.
His housefly’s dead on the vignette though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his women pick snowdrops.

My little hornpipe is quite queer
He stops without a farce or sneer
Between the women with their frozen ‘la’s
The commonest everyman of the yawl.

He gives his harlot beldams his shaft
To assure they are his mistresses.
The only other soundtrack's the sweat
Of easy win from downing flagons.

The women are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promenades to keep,
And migraines to go before I sleep,
And migraines to go before I sleep.

Hook:
***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Poisoning how we think.
***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Gotta be careful what ya drink.

Verse 1:
Uh, Seems like we always in a state of emergency,
In a land of democracy,
Things don’t seem free to me.
It’s like trying to wash our hands in ***** water, g.
Everything has a cost, so tell who going to pay the fee?
It certainly not going to be the dominant society.
For the system was build by and for white people to have superiority.
That demonizes anyone that doesn’t conform to their authority.
Spreading a sense of inferiority over natives and minorities.
And I’m not just talking historically, because these issues persist presently.
Change can’t happen unless one is willing to **** the teet of the majority.
For we live in world that separates based off of hierarchy.
That strips down and overgeneralizes our identities.
Then when one overcomes these disparities they are seen as the unordinary.
The exception to the rule,
Like *** is that supposed to mean?
Think I’m about to lose my sanity, dealing with an uneducated narrow minded humanity.
In a state bombarded with atrocity after atrocity,
Yet people have the audacity to tell us to get over it instantly.
Living in a democracy that doesn’t have time to listen to me,
Living in a world where history repeats,
Perhaps I guess we just can’t get enough of insanity.
It just doesn’t make sense to me?
I thought we were supposed to be evolved,
Yet be so devolved mentally.
Like how can indigenous people asking for clean water cause so much controversy?
For if your province or city didn’t have access to clean water, wouldn’t you worry?
Wouldn’t you start protesting firmly?
All I ask is that yawl start checking your privilege homie.

Hook:
***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Poisoning how we think.
***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Gotta be careful what ya drink.

Verse 2:
Water is the foundation to survival,
Water can also be a philosophical symbol,
For we all thirst for something,
It’s like we are cursed or something.
Being immersed into desensitization,
Becoming numb to everything.
Needing to wash away what is obstructing.
Blocking the path towards transformation.
As established norms perpetuates discrimination.
Whilst also justifying racism and condemnation.
I didn’t choose to born,
But yet that some how qualifies me for damnation.
Because my skin colour is seen as being sinful, that needs to be put through sanitation.
Becoming guilty on the basis of association.
Which makes it harder to find the equation.
As everyone has different values, beliefs and expectations for how to fix this situation.
***** water sure is a contamination,
Thats been leaking out since creation.
That has divided not just people but also nations.
If only people could be mature when having these debates and conversations.
Instead of suffocating on our offence,
Or wallowing within a sense of victimization.
****, this ***** water sure has damaged how we function.

Hook:
***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Poisoning how we think.
***** water all through these streets,
***** water poisoning what we eat,
***** water flooding the mind,
Gotta be careful what ya drink.

Verse 1:
Rising to top, but I ain’t gonna drop.
No,no,no,no I ain’t gonna drop!
Cause I’m sipping on success,
******* ******* on my private jet yeah, yeah.
Sipping on success, the grind never stops.
Get that tattooed on ya chest.
Facing every challenge, unable to be stopped.
No, no, no, no I cannot be stopped!

Pre-chorus:
Cause I’m always evolving, yeah!
Musics my compulsion, yeah!
Uh, I Keep on evolving, keep on evolving,
Living my life like a sultan, like a sultan.

Chorus:
Isn’t that something? Uh, isn’t that something? Yeah
Doing **** my own way, my own way.
Cause I don’t play, no I don’t play.
And if you don’t like it, there’s the highway.

Verse 2:
Hit the road Jack, if ya ain’t willing to step up to the bat.
But even you do, You never hit the level that I am at.
Sorry not sorry for the lack of sympathy.
All I gotta give ya is the smallest symphony.

Pre-chorus:
Cause I’m always evolving, yeah!
Musics my compulsion, yeah!
Uh, I Keep on evolving, keep on evolving,
Living my life like a sultan, like a sultan.

Chorus:
Isn’t that something? Uh, isn’t that something? Yeah
Doing **** my own way, my own way.
Cause I don’t play, no I don’t play.
And if you don’t like it, there’s the highway.

Bridge:
Haters gonna hate, uh haters gonna hate.
Unlike you I do not break, yawl too fragile, yawl too fake!
I pour my heart & soul into this ****.
& that hard work turned into grit.

Chorus:
Isn’t that something? Uh, isn’t that something? Yeah
Doing **** my own way, my own way.
Cause I don’t play, no I don’t play.
And if you don’t like it, there’s the highway.

Outro:
This journeys a hustle,
Some of yawl too soft.
Don’t understand the struggle,
That’s why I make hits and yawl make flops.

The mighty wooden ship awaits,
the pirate and his *****.                  
The massive sails and spinnakers bold
pondering seven seas.

Adventure beckons, be still my heart,
adrenalin rushing forth.
My pirate blood, from birth doth flood
my veins with plunderous thoughts.

But hark, my beloved approaches now
With chest of clothes abundant
She says we must first speak of things
so as not to be redundant.

“Before we leave dry land, I must confess
of second thoughts about our new address.
A secret that I’m holding must be shared:
…..I am a little scared.

Sea legs, I’ve none, nor a stomach strong.
Even my sense of direction is mostly wrong.
I’m just hoping that as your Pirate queen,
….. I do not turn green.

You’d love to sail away beyond far horizons,
though, if you must know, I cannot roam
further than my cell phone plan,
…..which is Verizon.  

Oh let me think this through a minute,
My love, my one eyed wonder
To sail the earth to see the world
To steal and maim and plunder
Sounds like fun, but when we’re done -
I’ve broken my nails
On those ******* sails
and I don’t know my stern from my bow

My teacher of Zen
will want to know when
my monthly bill will be paid, anyhow.
So I think I must stay, oh and by the way,
Have the boatswain untie the cable
And get me that yawl or I swear I will crawl
To the dock as fast as I’m able.

I guess I’m not much of a buccaneer
but the thought of the trip made me sick.
So a pirate’s life is not one for a wife -

at least not a wife
with a hair appointment
on Thursday!

You are

*******
Brilliant
Con man
Devoted
Enigmatic
Father
Gregarious
Healer
Indignant
Jovial
K­artikeya
Liar
Machiavellian
Narcissist
Ogre
Provider
Quaint
Resil­ient
Sage
Thief
Ubiquitous
Vagrant
Wanted
Xylene
Yawl
Zestful

All these things are only a small representation of that which you were.

To be honest

These are
only the things
That I recall
You being to me
Being for me

I refuse to Sanctify you
I refuse to Demonize you

You Sir

Gone so many days
Missed for so long
Moons have passed

Pleasures which I
I prayed you observed

Millions of events large and small
have come and gone since that day

Most of which
are insignificant

Many of which
will never be complete with out you having been there

You are gone
these things are what you were

you are still alive in me
so they are things that you are

and I have to accept that I am.

It has been 9 years and counting...

r.i.p.
Pops

Intoxicated, liquor going down the esophagus, hiding from my problems because I'm still devastated. Will we end up obliterated by the crap we have done, it was all fun, but now we have no where to run. I tried expressing all my worries, but a lot of yawl not hearing me, it's not just illimunati theories but that's all you choose to see. Emotions fluctuate so much, so easy to lose touch, so easy for life to leave you crushed. Starting to suffocate, why didn't we cultivate? Why did yawl hesitate? Is the future truly set, are we truly the keepers of our fate? Degeneration of these degenerates, starting to reap our recompense. Tried to keep positivity elevated, tried to not keep my expectations elevated, tried to leave my negativity eradicated. Separated by technology, separated, man we even  try to figure out each other using psychology. Separating what makes us do what we do, to figure out what struggle is true.  Separated by race, if you intermix you're treated like a disgrace. Separated countries, towns, cities, and continents, separated religion and genders, and you don't fall in line your incompetent. So I drink, bottle after bottle, isn't that my people's motto? That's what we got told by privileged whites, and if we revolted, we got hung up like kites. Gangs and drugs, created into monsters, by all these monsters. Now a broken generation oppresses each other, now we decide who is native enough, we have become cain, just a killer brother. Oh brother you may say, you have a choice to make life bright or keep it staying grey. Three to six generations of broken treaties, three generations of residential schools, forced to lose our culture and embrace your culture and your deity's. Now why don't you try dealing with that, only one generation out, and we still treated like rats. Killed anyone different, whether that be native, black, asian, it didn't matter you held your entitled nose and became ignorant. What did we deserve to get this, there are days I wish I didn't exist, because we are still dealing with this. I guess it is what it is, it's just your average day being ethic, never going to be treated better even if your if a ****. Don't believe me, just ask Ahmed Mohamed, that's why I believe this world needs to get hit with another comet.

After school aftermath time to change up our current habitat.
After school rhyming like fools, but **** us ******* if we don't act like tools.
There are times where a person has to forget how to give a ****,
And times where you have to make sure that people understand that life truly *****.
No more morals, I will no longer be loyal, strapping on my aluminum hat made out of tin foil.
Everything is a conspiracy, but no one wants to listen to me; Too bad that they don't see that we live in the matrix, everyone is plugged into a false reality.
Son from Zion, son made of ions, forcing out the machines with my inner midi-chlorian.
Fe-fi-fo-phom goliath you ain't got none son,
All you got is fists and I have a fully automatic tommy gun. Pow pow shot down, all them haters I will shoot down, because to me all you phonies are a bunch of demented clowns.

Yeah, uh.
Hexagon be going in to this beat, so this is not a time to be taking your seats.
After school aftermath I'll be rhyming all the time like a boss,
In this injustice of a land that nails anyone who speaks out about it onto a cross.
For shame son, I won't be a part of you're little game Mon,
After school aftermath our rap team be representing the nation.
So while the rest of you lost souls be stationed in you're incongruently warped minds,
I'll be taking my time writing these real deep filled lines.
Ok hold up for a minute, I promise I let yawl finish, but I don't think any argument you may have against us would be legitimate.
As many of yawl are stuck in a regimented mindset for the government’s benefit.
We be stressing on real deals, we be giving out hope to people to help them deal with their messed up ordeals.
Can you feel the decay of the system we live in?
But there is still time to change it in our favor so we can win.  
After school aftermath time to get out the war drums and the trumpets, this is a time to be chaotic instead of being a dainty mistress like Ms. Muppet.
It’s about time we say **** it!
This is a time for change, this is a time to be strange, and this is a time to write a new page.
This is a time to rearrange our thinking,
Cause our society is like the Titanic because we be sinking.
We are better than this,
And though there may never be bliss,
I will be remised,
If never we really tried to at least take risks.
I believe that we would no longer be slowly sinking in this world that is stinking.

Yo, t-dogg is in the house are guys ready?
Let's go off,
Cause I really want to go off,
It’s time for the blow off,
That’s burns brightly like a Molotov,
To all you haters that are still out there can *******.
It is Mr. Supra HD you bet your ***** me and Classy J are super indeed.
Going straight for the knees,
Got no time for your petty pleas,
This is the after school aftermathso you bet we be running even it’s a 100 decrees,
This is real rap so bet we won’t keep it simple and clean.
Got to roll up them sleeves,
And set sail for sea,  
In a world full of boy toys we refuse to sell out,
End up in jail needing bailouts.  
Classy j and Hexagon and me be the stand outs,
Saving rap because if I’m honest it’s been in a drought.
So, although yawl might treat like Dumbo’s
We hit you with that Konami Code, Wambo Combo!
Going in like Rambo, Never running out ammo,
Stealth **** like the Predator even if you’re wearing Cammo.
Want some advice, don't mess with us, Stay in your lane and avoid the fuss.

Rocking my snap back, blowing up like a bellow back, juggling bars like it were a hacky sack. Life tries it’s best to give me set backs, but I just sit back and get back up for a comeback. Underdog from the underground, not here to blunder around for I want to be glory bound. Bound for glory, can’t keep me downed man for this is my heroes story. Story of my life, story that almost ended with a knife. Had enough of being left astray, for I no longer was going let myself be treated like an ashtray. Going into the fray, going in but this time I promise I won’t lose my way. Weighed my options, weighted the choices, and now they come to flourishing motion. I only listen to my own notions, and I will sacrifice anything to succeed even if I end up like the borthans. Death stares through the stars, but I won’t be taken by no Death Star. Starting ground up, for you gotta do what ever it takes to get to the top. Toppled the haters and the fakers, for my bars are like eating a snickers. Keep yawl satisfied and I’m so grateful that my effort has been gratified. Bonified dignified undenied modified undefined went in applied and rallied from a moral guide to tear apart the diseased hide.  Government conspiracy, government deemed freedom of speech as heresy. And here I see the flaws, and here I came out of the depths with my claws. Clawed for my dream, dream of attaining cream. Escaped the depths of the Demi-gorgan pit, because it’s all about survival of those who are more fit. Fit to be a decency, but because I’m different I’m deemed a discrepancy. So I’m going in like a ghost doing recon call me Tom Clancy, exposing all these ******* fallacies. Falling down an icy *****, and for the longest time we couldn’t open up because we was introduced to dope which was anything but dope. Dopamine filling my being, neurotransmitters firing so fast that I attain this happy feeling. False perceptions to stimulants, false ideals gotta use discretion’s before I end up in a addiction predicament. Moving fast, moving slow, the ride won’t last, so I always gotta have me mo. Self medicate self evaporate self ******* which leads to self hate and broken fate.Too long since I noticed anything but myself, feel like a ***** villain man so should I arrest my self. I just long for rest myself, and maybe it’s time for someone else to assess myself. Maybe it’s time to visit the mental asylum

Yeah, curious furious instincts, going till my tank is empty, life is a balancing act man, hope I don't fall and break apart like Humpty Dumpty. Going in, connecting every shot, yeah you bet this is a battle that I will win, have you already forgot? Tucking you in, bearing my cross, been going up and down those hills man, living life like a boss. Young native and graduated, making my expectations stay elevated like a real g, leaving your corpses eradicated, didn't I tell you not to mess with me? For I am the chronic, get yawl hooked on me, and if you don't listen, I'll go subatomic. Going super saiyan sonic, I hustle every day, yeah I may not be a saint but I'm sure as hell not demonic. Got to dumb it down, as the clock is ticking down, got the *** slipping down, no time to stop, no time to be mocked, the charges have been set, so get down. Twisted explicit domestic impressive with a message, got all you haters bested, yet interested, messed with your heads with my words, guess that makes you infected. Going undetected by most outlets, it's sad the only people who make it it in the music industry are sell outs, and the ones who are real never really make it. I think this world has become defective, false perceptions got you bumping to frauds, so I guess subliminal  brainwashing is indeed effective. Leaning towards Gods, punishment that resembles the crime, get out the rods, it time for judgement time. It sickens me to see them dragging you into their witch craft trickery, get out the med kit and heal you before you become easy pickings. Giving me a head congestion, we have gotten so low, it's like were currently in a recession. I don't aim for perfection, I am a realist, ready for suggestions, got out my idea list, ready to take some risks. Got your ******* twisted in a knot, can you feel the rush? If you got nothing good to say, you should hush, don't have to give it a second thought, lay it all out even it is not a royal flush. I have not lost my edge, keep you on the ledge, spear through you as if I was the Rated R superstar edge. You must have lost your minds if you think my rhymes have become sublime, so there is no need to bind, I promise that I am fine. I memorize what matters, and say my two cents, sure some times I improvise, but life is like the board game snakes and ladders, except you don't get no guide or hints. I'm like lemon in the eyes, I don't comprise, unlike other rappers, yeah I am a light, flushing down others down the crapper. I put everything on the table, don't have anything under my sleeve, I'm just real, whereas the rest of yawl as fake as a weave. I am a unique, so of course the world treats me as a freak, but glory to those who are meek. I can hold my own, so pick up the phone and let a friend know, that I will always bring on a show. No need for help to get back on my feet,  I grind oppressors into meat. Started from nothing, my mom raised me, made sure that I could become a something, yeah I make sure nothing would no longer faze me. Can only look forward, can no longer be the coward, found good friends to keep me empowered. It could always be worse, sure I don't drive in a hearse, but I amerce and reverse my predicaments so that I can change others and make a better universe. Never shot a gun, never got into the gangs, and no I aint no priest or nun, I'm just a poet that shall silence all you little naughty lambs. Get out the Chianti and fava beans, rise against the machine, stone those hypocritical philistines.

At 16 I met a Man who owned
A sailing Craft a 24 foot Yawl
A Polished Captains Wheel to Steer
Two Main sails a Jib and two Fore Sails
He had an Affair with a girl 18.....
And I was the Beard

He taught me to sail the craft,
Follow the wind with the Tell Tale
Fair Taught, you Kept the sail
Follow the wind till the End,
Swing the sail boom, to tack back again

He always bought Hot Peppered Crab
And a 12 pack of National Beer
Once he took it out the Middle River
He would take her below for whispers
With me at the wheel, I sailed the Bay
My Love of the Boat and he for her,
Were both, Same in a way

The Ship she was my lover
And to him I was his Cover
For a 30 Year old Husband
And an 18 Year old Girl
Sailing in the Summer Sun
I watched the sails a Furl

Taught with wind, she veered to Lee
Sailing till waves rolled up from the Sea
And that's when she Picked up Speed
I would tighten up the boom line.

The only sounds  flap of the Sails
And The creak of the Rope
Beneath the Moon so Pale
On a Warm Summers night sail

A summer I'll Never Forget
And the Tragedy of her Death
As she Drove for home her car crashed
Her hopes for her life Dashed
And that I lost my friend I regret....

Summer time, things are starting to heat up, the temperature is rising, and this is the time to let your *** up. Yeah party party, with more revealing clothes, drinking every night, and in the day we be browsing all the stores. Heat wave, not a time to behave, forget everything and let loose, not a good time to stay safe and isolated in your cave. Oh yeah, classy j splashing in, blasting in, feeling the heat man, yeah I be going in. Now hold up, hold up, look up look up, not a time to look down bro, its a celebration man, so pass me that red cup. New groove, new mood, my status is growing; I'm no longer as shrewd. Heat wave, yeah it is hot hot hot, tongue twisting yawl into unbreakable knots, knots, knots. On fire, cut the wire, I will never tire, keeping my opinion more middle grounded, the heat is pushing me up man, and yeah I just keep going higher. Raving, tutting, going all out, don't stop the party, man imma make you all scream and shout. Shut up and live in the moment, just do it, because this your time, this is a time to make yourself a moment. Heat wave, gateway, get away, chill out with bae, new at the force but we'll get used to it just like ray. Spitting the hot fire call me a fire ******, going up in rankings until I become the number one contender. Not going read no hate mail man I'll just click return to sender, going on tours everywhere man so you best be checking your calendars. Oh yeah, keep my flow going, never ever slowing, coming at you like a heat wave, I'm a star that will forever be glowing. I'll be going from show to show, thankful that I can, so I personally want to acknowledge and thank all you fans.

Pumping like an artery for I got to be the battery that drives this, **** prince charming ***** this ain't no fairy tale BS. I am Hades You Persephone for reality is that life ain't no symphony. I'm just meant to be the coldest MC, Bringing you ******* all to your knees. I am as influential as Socrates and rappers like Kanye, Yachti, Wayne, Jeezy and other fakes I use as a trapeze. I'm classically gaudy so call up Regis to fill em in, for I still have Evil Within and got a tendency to slay anyone then laugh while eating some M&M's. Hating me for spitting the same ****, so what man everyone else does it. At least my bars got substance, at least one can understand every single one of my sentence's. Says right here that everyone talks too much, tries too much, works too much, but don't act out what they preach too much. Set you up, bring you down, this is the domino effect man I told yawl I'd go after these fraudulent clowns! Rapidly maniacally painstakingly organizing my life back together, avidly trying to make a difference for myself, so that life for others can also become better. The domino effect got my methodical prodigal prophetic mind constantly staying in check. Candid and sadly reeking of erroneous savagery, a man that is classically Gaudy and who also suffers with a split personality. Can I call an audible? Can I have a head start to get away from the constable? I am an abnormality who is typically without liberty to be anything who will never be looked at as being a rational help to humanity? I'm just deemed a *****, so when it came to my goals and dreams I had no choice but pull the trigger. Go figure that my figure match the picture of a killer, go figure that I roll with some drug dealers, go figure that to survive I had to become a stealer. Cause and effect when one lives in debt, cause and affect that I can get your girl more wet. Adversity is affecting me, got no time for tranquility when the pigs be searching for me. What would you do if you were me? Would you also be praying that there would be a heaven for a g? How would you feel if you constantly had to flee? How would you do if you woke up with pigment and had to adjust to life being treated like **** like me? This is just a part of the domino effect; this is just how it is in the ghetto; yeah this is just how it is always being seen as the usual suspect. Nothing but a defect, nothing but an insect, nothing to respect, so how can hope or change ever manifest?

so sick of this rat race
pull ahead get pulled back
by peoples hate smiles fake
good died
evils taken its place
truth you have to face, a dying breed
morals are being replaced

no matter how hard I try to live
nothing I do is good enough
inside they breaking all my stuff
feel like this life is getting rough
tough but I feel like caving in
seems everyone consumed by sin
trying to set my shine to dim
cant break i need to  save me

walking in a twilight zone
eerie feelings I must disown
trying to break me, I'm not alone
have a love that's so strong
lifts me up when I'm  down
live as a optimist that is a risk
life's trying to spin me around
I'm no clown screaming holding a fist
ready to fight, till my last breath
i know i'm right,
why should i conform to norms,
when I posses the light
have insight
to fight the dark
when it tries to bite
modern night, any evil i will smite

this where i confess life's heartless
nevertheless wont digress
no recess got to push for progress
negativity I got to suppress
ill feelings I disposes
wont feel the effects
wont bring me to my knees
have love still feel blessed
nonetheless I'm destined for success
wont stress, not a request, i impress
play this game time for chess
this board I will possess

why do they keep hunting me
I'm not fair game, insecurities
makes them lame, cant face themselves
so play the blame game, they cant face the shame
living in lies not to feel ashamed
its too late you made your bed
face the sins in your head, its your regrets
feel its effects, never forget
placed your bets, did the crime
now face the time
cant reset, try to make amends is the best bet

yet the ones you wronged, is now dead
my conscience clear yours complex
you will only heal when you accept
with deceit you are possessed
I severe ties cant stand the lies
now you nothing but pests

your story ends
book shortened, hurt a person considered
the best of men, for yawl he did everything
yet you destroyed him in the end
hope at night you scream his name
in terror because pain
did this **** for worldly gains
cant take the **** to the grave
narcissistic yawl insane
do you have empathy, what a crying shame
the time cant be reclaimed
hope heaven lose your names

He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross.
Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce.
Verse 1
Driving around fronting like a boss.
Feel the connection, better come correct kid.
For in the hood one is always in need of some protection.
And if ya don’t ya best watch your neck kid.
It’s all about respect kid.
So better watch your mouth kid.
Because yawl be dead if ya ever start snitching.
For If you wanna survive you just gotta be packing.
And If you wanna a meal on your plate than ya better start stealing.
Just be careful because the pigs always creeping.
Watching our houses, tapping our phones,  
Every day and every weekend.
For there is no freedom in the project zone.
It’s like gulag out here man, with gangs all trying to sit on the iron porcelain throne.
But it doesn’t mean ****, for the government will still be the true al capoene.
Testing out their drugs on us like we lab rats.
Using racism and propaganda to keep us on our backs.
Which makes makes me wonder why the rest of our society don’t just neuter these ***** cats?
****! But as long as...
He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross.
Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce.
Verse 2
Stunting with my money like a true mob boss!
You want power?
You want respect?
You want to fly around in a purple jet?
Than ya better come correct.
I feel ya J, we gotta makes them waves.
Like a big kahuna, drinking some corona.
Coming in like a super hero to save the day.
We will be the rulers, taking out the opposition like a true mobster.
And ya might think us monsters, but we just doing what we can with this natural disaster.
That you created, ya I ain’t faded.
Opportunity for all, in this world so devastated.
From Atlanta to the bronks.
Only got one rule, which is don’t be a foolish punk.
You gotta think smart and not just rely on luck.
For every dog has its day, so be careful where you run a muck.
Just as long as you never forget...
He got the sauce, he got the sauce driving around in a purple Lamborghini like Ric Ross.
Ya I got the sauce, he got the sauce.
Got that money, power, and fame like Kriss kross.
Do you got that sauce?
Does he have that sauce?
Because if you don’t, than that’s a loss.
So remember to never lose that sauce.

Something shifted, in my persona.
I’ve become dark and twisted,
Sick grin that comes in like Ammonia.
You know nothing, for ya just a John snow loner.
I’m sick of yawl white walkers who hate on me cause my skins darker.
But I’ll expose you like mysterio did to Peter Parker.
Whatever the cost may be even if I’m deemed a demon or a martyr.
It doesn’t matter to me, the classiest mc.
That’ll burn ya like a third degree.
Then we’ll see if you’ll remember me.
I bring substance that goes in deep like surgery.
And If ya want stale bread buy a drake Cd.
But if ya want soul, stay tuned to me.
The number one public enemy.
That calls out racism, corruption and misogyny,
Which makes privileged pigs upset with me.
But those blinded ******* don’t faze me.
For I wanna see the day where we regain some sense of humanity.
Freedom for all except for blah blah blah, ***** you and your hateful ideology.
Freedom for all no exceptions, are you listening?
Freedom for all if you want to have prosperity.
Freedom for all in order to not fear other cultural identities.
Is that so hard to ask ese?
Apparently so,
Transparency shows,
conspiracy rules,
Nations divided like the boarders we hold.
Kids locked up head to toe.
Shooters in schools,
Religious believers killed.
Oh can you see that we are fools?
In our home and native lands that colonists stole.
Make America and Canada great Again, but it wasn’t even great before.
Get to know the true history,
In order to destabilize the core.
Of racist and sexist doctrine that our countries still hold.
In God we trust but even Gods not that cold.
Don’t blame your religion for being a complete legalistic *******!
You won’t deceive my eyes with all your wool.
So stop being a tool.
For its about time to get off your stepping stool.
And maybe get yourself educated instead of spreading hate like some fool.
For that should just be a classically common sense rule.

Started out doubtful,
Lost at sea like my boy fievel,
Partying every night yet I was spiteful,
Mouth full of things yet was not thankful.
Always wanting more,
Yeah I was a carnivore,
Was so rich yet so poor.
Had everything yet was empty to the core.
Smiles as phony as some real fake doors.
Hoping one day I would be on the Forbes.
For I yearned for the illusion of grandeur.
For I was tired,
Tired of being barred,
Barred from what society deemed popular,
But popularity only has so much allure,
It certainly is not a cure.
In fact I would say it’s more of a cancer.
That becomes as obsolete as a blockbuster.
And I can no longer be an actor.
Faking smiles and shaking hands with gators.
Or Catering to dictators,
For I’m an innovator,
A lyrical operator.
And a educator,
That spits lyrics with high energy like a particle accelerator.
Yeah I am unlike the rest of yawl common denominators.
U gotta understand,
Ain’t no way to truly comprehend,
What it is like to come from nothing,
And make it into something.
Yet still remembering,
Where one came from.
When one barely had any income.
Gotta stay humble man,
Because tomorrow it could all disappear fam.

I’m tired of being docile,
I’m just tired from trying to be a decent role model,
As I’m shopping down these Walmart aisles,
With staff circling me like some ******* eels,
Thinking imma steal,
Asking for my receipt as I leave,
Putting they arms on my sleeve,
When I say no,
Because they have no right to check me homie,
Unless they have reason to believe,
That I’m a thieving liar,
But that ain’t me G.
But now you’ve unleashed my fire.
So, some body call the town choir,
Because somebody is about to be fired!
And some of yawl be saying,
But what can I do about racial profiling?
That has undermining and marginalizing,
Anyone that doesn’t conform to white priorities?
Which is ******* silly.
Oh, you don’t like me spitting these facts, sue me.
Truly, this is appalling,
But, most of yawl already stopped listening,
Isn’t it fitting?
In a land of opportunity,
One wrong step, the white cop gonna shoot me.
Arresting me for driving while ethnic,
Didn’t your mother teach you ethics?
When did our world become so pathetic?
Giving people like me smaller portions to live with,
While at the same time telling me to get over it!
I’m so sick and tired of this ****!
Man, I just can no longer stand it!
Getting questioned every time I step out of my **** house,
Man, that tragic.
And it isn’t just Walmart,
Or the cops,
It is this whole **** society,
Institutionalized to give the white kid a lollipop.
Man, **** Walmart,
And the cops,
**** this whole **** society,
For continuing to give marginalized people like me a sucker punch!

Mowing down competition like I a Gatling gun, got des fools on deh run.
Do this **** for fun, and I'm big and I love puns.
Name sadly already taken, oh well My names good and Nonetheless I be grappling these hooks hoping I don't reel in the kraken.  
I be cracking yawl up all night,  so what if we slack off a bit it's ok for we need to relax some nights.
Long days with strong or weak power plays, and days were emotions run a muck and life doesn't conform to our ways.
Rattling the war drums, rebelling because we tired of eating measly crumbs.
Get out the Gatling gun for its open season, time to teach these ***** a lesson.
Realize recognition and watch out for false perception in your cognition.
For eyes can lie so be wary and skeptical and never take bribes.
Real recognize real, if I ever fake myself again I’ll probably take a cyanide pill.
If I ever conform I would probably chug some chloroform.
If I ever cheat on my girl for some other *****, instead of dealing with the aftermath I’d probably drink some bleach. Go on a milk run and try to avoid the Gatling gun.
What the ****, why the ****, who the ****, where the ****, how the ****.
Get out the equalizer and go klick klick bang, the ting go gaa gaa blang.
Hit them wit de gat, swing it like it were a bat.
Floor ya to the mat, be like de earth cause you’ll go flat.
What ya tink aboot dat, mess wit de hammer yawl go splat.
Uh for real, de gun I gotta conceal, so don’t get all hasty man ******* chill. Macaroni, alimony, melancholy kinda funny once ya know de story.
Rain drop stained mop, living in de hood like what up my glip glops.
Going spaced out like I’m in a space ship, took some lcd recently that’s what I call a space trip.
It’s just basic rocket science and don’t mind me if I’m not compliant your highness.
I’m the finest with bars riddled with finesse, it’s like a Gatling gun putting bullets to thee chest.
Hold up shut the **** up, pause while a chug some lean from a big red cup.
Not for the weak minded, got gats for poor sneaky blinded folk cause ya got to keep it 100.
What the fickle popsicle gotta giggle for I’m not just a rickle in time for not just anyone can turn themselves into a pickle. Riggety recked, got out the Gatling gun so best hit the deck.
When I plan to paint this town.
Because I don’t **** with clowns.

Minority Report
Causing heinous acts with these verbal attacks, the future of class bringing the heat to this **** because it's ******* wack. Living dangerous ******* infamous, and I got thoughts so dark deep and callous. Heart filled with malice because thats what I gotta do to achieve my dream of living in a classy palace. Writing **** so obscene, sometimes I don't even know what the **** I mean you know what I mean? Head believes itself to be in atlas even when in reality it's sleeping on a **** soaked mattress. What do I gotta do to garner a buzz, do I got I gotta rap about drugs, *******, shiny cars and make sure you know how much I hate the ******* fuzz? Underground mindset vs mainstream *******, but rap needs purpose again so you'll bet I'll defend it. All lot of yawl get to easily offended, and those folk are a bunch of self righteous pompous entitled airheads. I got to fake myself which degrades myself, so maybe that's why I can't stand myself. We're all just hypocrites and parasites draining happiness outta life, and we're all idiots that lack insight of how we're the ones really responsible with how we view and treat life. Maybe I swear too much because I actually care too much, and I think one way we get common sense back is if we give ourselves a quick slap or punch. Maybe it's too late, maybe we waited too long and now there's no longer an escape. Is it all just fate and are we no more than bait? Maybe this world is one big joke and we're the punchline, and it's only a matter of time before we run out of time. The world is a cavity maybe that's why the truth aches, and truth is such a tooth ache and we can pretend it's not there but there's no mistake. Oh **** what a ******, we are just puppets to corporations and media and religion man this **** is a bother. Freedom will never take place, and each politician is basically the same because power corrupts no matter the race. Face it we are mice in a maze, and most countries run on the consumerism craze. Oh geez oh my, I think Karl Marx would probably cry. No such thing as equality, but we're all equally ****** undoubtedly. Majority of crimes being young white males yet minority's are the majority in jails, man that's a ****** ordeal. Colour coded mindsets where black is evil and gloomy and white is pure and beautiful. Why is that and why do we still use it like why hasn't anyone changed that? Creatures of habit, creatures so savage, creatures that need to be managed or branded. All apart of categories, and it sickens me that this is reality and not some twilight zone story. Before people can get to know the real me they negatively view me, for I'm just a primitive Cretan that bums lighters, smokes, alcohol, and their wives but that is such a fallacy.  I'm demeaned a criminal the day I came out coloured, society put out a minority report out for me and nothing I could say or do would've mattered. Over-generalizing my being, and it's pretty ironic that some call me an illegal alien.

On the precipice
of turning pessimist
into followers
on the basis
of logical statistics,
I persist flame thrower I bring the heat
Arsonist,
Spit flames when I speak
A weight when I lead
Yawl Sunday lunch  baked goods
Dough that I knead, twigs snapped
I break bread
killed yawl already
shot to the head
lift your spirits
Necromancer, raised the dead
Skills reborn in eye I invest
Poetic vision
Stock doubled,
then  birthed success
A different mindset from the offset
Fueled by a rocket mentality
shoot for the moon
Lift off set, I earned respect
Flipped the script
Pitched my  tent
with Devine intent
its heaven-sent
This my shout at air
my truthful vent

Could paint a picture with words,
Writing verses yawl never heard.
Take some time to observe.
Cause you’ll never know what you’ll learn.
Whether yawl stay grounded like an ant,
Or soaring through the air like a bird.
Taking steps forward is like watering a plant.
In order to grow,
It’s not about where you’ve been,
But where you’re at.
And I ain’t gonna lie,
Sometimes you might hit a set back,
But as they say life ain’t always gift wrapped.
Got to know when to take a break, and have a Kit Kat.
For stress, anxiety and depression, will only leave you trapped.
In a cycle of been there, done that.
Which can become a toxic habitat.
And trust me when I say,
It’s really hard to overcome that.
Especially when ones mind has been highjacked.
By the words of others,
That can pin you down to the mat.
For the one, two, three.
Where is that referee?
That be trying to **** on me?
Like I’m Ted Dibiase!
But seriously,
How do we,
Start cleaning up the debris,
That is taking up free,
Space within our minds, thoughts and dreams?
Well the answer will differ for both you and me.
Depending on what healing means.