I just want to be on the soap box, rocking dope socks, whiskey on the cold rocks, flow knocks others off their toes not if the show stop.
Go swap that swamp with paradise, images of killers ripe in my brain when that knifes on the grain, PB&J not ice. Lee way to stain minds that all mankind is kind of drained, swine lines cut through traffic, the fame you can't have it, the game isn't established for white dudes with wide roofs over their heads, I'm the monster under the bed. It's a dark night give me dap man, not batman but I can boomerang on tap man, check the tat man. I'm socially awkward but often this flossing somersaults and tosses out the old blossoms out the awesome side. A shy guy with jokes shine until the rye opens up a pit of shit talking, epiphany walking, balcony stalking, criss-crossin to flip coffins. A Caucasian where on occasion he sets a blazing to the haze and becomes crazy and craving a chance of stage time. This is rage rhyme nothing more.

Don't petty the pension and draw attention to me it only heightens the tensions I've got on this pencil, musical stencil, take the whole paint can and water the bench til I get up and walk the court towards a fence post. Hop it because it's hip. Flip the script with a middle finger stitched on every bitch I've ever ditched just to get on a mix tape and talk shit I'll never quit. Quick, someone call me a dick. So I can think of something more clever to spit on these clits. Not apart of these cliques or cliches, who needs a highway when I do it my way? Higher than airplanes, by the way, pass the IPA. I'm trying to feel some kind of way before I piss you off with every word that I'm about to say.

Excuse me for saying that Satan isn't as bad as you're thinking, he ain't the one creating underage men that bastards are then caught raping, the pastors then save them, now they've got new placement on this Earth and in Heaven a demonstration that showcases it doesn't matter what you do as long as you're praying unless you're gay, then you could cure cancer and you'd still be baking in a fiery place that's made 10 out of 10 Christians believe that Earth is just a play pin, everyone else is just pavement, pave the way for the great sin. In my opinion it's brainwashing and that's just me an Agnostic and the devil's gonna blaze him. It's terrorism now was crusades then, play the blame game and drop names when ideas become genocides, pop off like grenade pins. Had enough? Say when. I'll fifty shady things with my grey pen, say something racist, i'd be great then. CNN could put me on blast for their ratings. Would that make you a believer then? Strap a bomb to my chest that reads a friend of Him, the H is lowercase I'm not afraid of him.

This is a drunk rant that thunk past passages of bragging ragging on savages with pants sagging just to pay rent. It's just lyrics to me, to some it's the only way went. Bumping like a Cajun, Cajon.. I know, but if the silly word rhymes then it goes in, fake it until you make it or make cents of sense lay waste to all the innocence and trash talk until the garbage bends over and takes every inch, Obamacare won't even cover this, forever anonymous you'll be faceless and among the ignorant you'll be the favorite because all this generation cares about are selfies and North Faces.