lazy, lackadaisical. lately im halfly capable to maintain a rapping fable. insane, happily contained and actually faithful to what's happening on facebook. a savage week of master peace smoking bags of weed. hopeless. average. weak. moments flash in scenes, motions, dragging feet. fuckin' rain. get home huffin' paint and droves of duster spray til it froze and burst my brain. burping waves of purplish haze of syrup in flurries, blurrying gaze. worries away the first time in days. it hurts, so i bide my stay. blind to the pain wiping my eyes to find the window pane to see the bride with a widows face crying, sinus broken, smoking packs of diamonds chokin'. heimlich. the omen of why your try is hopeless. women pfft. i'd try but i'd rather lie with battered wives because they fuckin' listen after i tell'em twice. bust 'em in the kitchen. swell the eyes. jkkkk!!
but seriously what if i really I beat women? would you be like, "thats not right" and keep your distance? doubt it. but i'm found on a mountain breathin' mists. it's mouth a fountain of deep existence where i crouch and see it's riches pour out beneath my vision. pouting, demons twitching. fleeting mentions of knowledge, philosophic college of toxic wattage, rapped and dropped in phonics. psychotic. wise prophet. times arrived, why stop it? signs aligned, revelations of devil nations and white profits. several cases of unsettled faces wined and dined in pine boxes.
makes no sense, does it? what does? take your hit. buzzin'. it's a phase you miss, so you take it again to recapture youth. afternoons spent after new hits. rocks and glass, you know the blue shit? got your cash and threw it quick for a hop to the past from the newest tricks. gone too fast. you blew it, kid.
wonder what was, what is, and what was never. lover of such luck to love none but his. none was better. but was it ever?
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