one too many, thats too much, i mean too soon, i tucked so many covers, its still early in the afternoon, i get surly when night unfurling if the herb is almost through, but too late and i might start hurling when that smoke curl round the room, when i see you girl i'm through, she wonder if it's metaphor i cant even tell no more, i leave myself no semaphore, i read through and wonder, am i just high every time i write, or was i tryna decipher lights that i swear on my life i ain't ignite, when its right, then its right man, ain't need to fight it, just let go when you go under, no man made of iron, standing with a kite in a storm inviting thunder, with a fat stack of your mothers cash, you backtrack just to cover your stash, but like that, that be all my man, it's a sad fact but get it right i'm saying we gave em all this power, if you give a man a stick plus a sash and dark glasses, believe he gonna take it and just bend it round some asses, just to see how it feel, against the flesh of any less than mass appeal, royal seal, how merciful the brass is, oh such swift and balanced justice, reluctant masochists, but when we raid that tower, you gon see me on the field, bleeding out my heels, gon three days without a meal, and got no one to lay no flowers i been practicing my whole fucking life, for when i see caesar in the street, already brandishing the knife…. she still dressing for the ritual, smoking that shit all day, pass it this way, rinse with tanqueray, her love it taste so real her swollen lips, she still dressing for the ritual, smoking that shit all day, pass it this way, rinse with tanqueray, i forget my line, just move your hips fuck around and get your fingers broke, wetting up that thing you smoke, i ain't buy a lotta time for scrubs with choking throats, so toke one more time and see me step across the threshold, tonight i been invited save the choir no amount of dope, could make a girl change her mind, what's a hot line, up a plastic straw, i ain't got shit but mine, so stop pretending that i owe you more, her hair all messed and stress draining colour from her eyes, she tearing at her dress, digging her nails in my spine, after dusk when i feel inspired, i see it all before it transpire, i see the door slam shut and a fire, i see a blood vessel bust and a liar, i see a undercover cop and a spire, the call to prayer can sound so dire, hiding from the sunshine cause i heard that that's gods eye, all your heroes fucking losers, crying shames and wife abusers, confusing fame with music, victory gin on plastic boobies, what the use is? it should be a sin to spin the loom, if you as stupid as the spool is, vindictive like the web, but as crucial as the food is, contradictions make me older that shit i sold her make me bolder, heart grows fonder, makes me smolder, but my mind it expediting polar you always telling me how fucking cold my soul is, maybe you mean my blood, maybe you mean the ancestry that gave me eyes to shut, maybe you mean the panic dream that wake you on the bus, maybe you mean you never seen nothing that's not made up, well ain't that just the system, she the ringing the bell man listen, let em fall into the abyss like so many shits have done before em, catch me in your crib with your chick still snoring, tell you real life is boring when you ask about that smoke, go head and ask another, fuck around and get your fingers broke,

what dos, a whole lotta something you can't use, seeds in your weed, i'm a buyer i don't need that, stems from the trees, you a liar that ain't one gram, i'm a hundred one man, a scam is a scam, is a halfbaked plan, and i demand satisfaction, how you plan on acting, when it's time to cash in? i seen how you freeze in a little bit of action, i be chilling, similar but different, i'm god willing, illing with the moirai we just spinning, say i gon get more high, like i said god willing if i float overhead then i'm sorry, but i don't wanna be too slow when i'm dead, i get the feeling that that lord that you praying to don't like me, we certainly ain't speaking at the time of writing, no i haven't heard a peep, since i just wanna be a sheep, cause the same next week equivocating, i mean lying, yeah you know the case, so i bite my tongue and i savour the taste, cause you still got the power, and i get the feeling that you know the final hour, when the clips empty and the water run dry, and a man'll draw a knife just to get a fucking shower, i wish icke was right, but we're just stupid fucking humans, throwing children overboard, while the crewmen, rubbing ointment on the balls of the truman, of a captain who we chose to lead our ruin, holla rapture, whatchu gonna tell 'em when they catch ya? nothing, some'll plead, some'll weep on their knees for forgiveness, tell them nothing, cause if there is a god it ain't them, and when them trumpets sound, hit the ground fast, i been taking bets on how long you suckers last, before your own damn shitty attitudes, get your city buried quicker than vesuvius'll do, who you gonna blame? sometimes i think s'all god is these days, who you gonna feed to azazel? who created satan, was it you? with fine liquor spilled on your fine suit, with your nine on someone else's waist, but your vest tight, with your wine on someone else's pay, guess your blessed right, what a gas, so who gon be the lighter? your greedy best friend, or a writer for a rag, you could pull the pin man, what's to hold you back? ain't like your happy, seen ya crying in your audi, like a latchkey, kid, dont ya have one? is it true that you forget more than remember? where were you the 21st of september? when love was changing minds of pretenders, where's your alibi, for when the stars stole the night, and everything was different, but you was same as ever? something don't feel right,

i don't make decisions, i make mistakes and i live with them, i dont make incisions, i cut limbs off at the base i'm driven, but not driving, in the passenger just wylin, spliff in one hand the other clutch my chest singing, d child, but my destiny, is to forever be a scrub, peace to tlc, and what i ain't learn from rnb i learned from grunge, nirvana raped me when i was young, and now im hopeless, dressed like a bum, either that or shiny suits, eyes green as chartreuse, love songs rattling in the boot about abuse, most that i grew up with had it easy, either that or they ain't even make it through, won't let ya rest, that might be the methamphetamines, same same but different, putting mules to sleep like ketamine, it's a shame the way you fixing, dissolving like solutions, impotent and useless, the handmedown shoe fits cess green thumbs, brown tongue smoking, black lung folk music, white eye lies spoken, like who am i? really who the fuck am i to speak on it? reeking of chronic, smoking out the bonnet, lips never not with liqour on them, scripts never without truth, but enough questions bout the use, aggression and a noose, framed as lessons for the youth,  the reverend so aloof, and the blessing so obtuse, the rest is on the record under terrorists for truce, aka money just like gravity,  so just let the poor loose, cut the tether, let 'em float into the ether, i betcha ten grand they start growing fucking feathers, well fuck you and fuck you, fuck them dudes on top, fuck the bureaucrats too, fuck those who just watch, cause they scared as me and you, made in god's image, must be as scared as me and you

he bust slow, when the mood get right, he gush so, he mostly keep his mouth shut, with a stubby in the gut, and a stub between his finger, with his bones froze up, his bones froze up, too slow to react, shoulda seen the signs, his girl stopped calling back, shoulda never crossed the line before they scribbled him out, now he dribble and shout, sculling stout in the attic, now he rush so, aint got time for his mind to decide, before a gust below, and he float somewhere else, popping new holes in his belt, the felt melts where his lungs hide, looking for a friend that he never seem to find, can't recall at all how he did all that bad shit, that you can never take back shit, how he was always at it, all the memory thats left is when he was still a kid, innocent how he could always see the spirit, how ain't a moment pass by that he wasn't fully in, now he can't tell a year from a week from a minute, his stomach folding in on itself, and even if he filled it, it wouldn't know what do, cause it's brimming with the djinn that slipped in, started weeping and still is, but the fog of the madness hard to see through, can't tell it from the smoke he confused, he hear the thunder and girl he hear you, an in the summer, he lose them too, he wont make it through another autumn, dried leaves turn to dust on the gurney post mortem, the doctor just shrugs, and calls him, no hugs, no cordon, no flashing lights, and no swarming, sweating torn and wrecked visage contorting, no pit of sorrow for no one to fall in, no futile widows calling, no angry gods and no mobs a mauling, just a signature that ain't his, on a file that no man saw since, wash rinse repeat, yo where you? the creator feel cold the creator feel blue