Slave fer the flavor.
We’re all ice cubes, slowly losing density, you so afraid of death ; sleep is to dream of lying on a frying pan, evaporate thinly and collide partically charged oinic sparks little unvierse start from the force it be creating , disintegrate to otherly outer worldly playing fields with minds free of shields cause theres no stopping this like the thunder gods. So how about I chryo genetically mr freeze you head 2 sleeves 2 knees to avoid eulogy, I’m no biology major but you might need sweater and some liptons every decade or so just so you know and you won’t lose a toe. afro nose best when it comes to the knowing of the test he stuff the answers in the back of his nest like hair but beware there’s a snare in there to so he don’t get pocketed cause those streets are hard to compete with. the w on my hat stands for “what” or word, w/e you fancy I wear to keep the bird turds from infiltrating my brain station.
My mind is an inclined skate rink with a cliff side, I start to slide to the brink so I pulled a quick thinker outa my noggin and stopped my tobogganin behavior with an ice pick, attacked the slick white like a dentist serious about plaque. It was along time coming, trekking up this slippery slope.
Is it just me or does writing on paper come more naturally, I’m so inclined to applyin curves and lines to a page that I nerd rage at the cage these borders provide, when I’m in a rhymin craze I leave the page and carve into table. My word play has an accent, my letters are hellbent.
Crave the grave fever, zombiez over meteors, apocalypse sweeter. Bustin meat bag’s knee caps, thee be ones who seekin you teeth first like rabid door greeters. - Megasteady
These peepers dream of sleep, the need for sleep ingrained, but I’m fightin off creepers in the back alley of my brain. Call me a insano wigga, call me a draino smoka, call me what thee pleaseth. The end of the day we all just crumbs in the cheez whiz.. wait what? Damn I’m off to bed.