Wednesday, July 23, 2014

I often don't care when I walk into a scheme of mine... You read a line, n' don't even see until the scheme's redefined.




Fuck it... I got time, might's well spend it..
Might as well swing off the fences, knock a kick to your senses.
N' if you're feeling lucky, don't allow Google to elude you.
I will, put you out of your misery, moving whimsically...
Through every intricate dissing scheme... you kidding? yo, this is mean.
This is seen, by far, as a tactic of killing you, till you bleed.
Till the amount of contusions creates an outer illusion
of you imitating a geyser of Red Kool-Aid, pouring out you, profusely.
You're fucking Goofy. More so than the Mickey guy..
Cornea than the muscles scene in your FREAKING eye. This is why..
I often don't care when I walk into a scheme of mine...
You read a line, n' don't even see until the scheme's redefined.
I paint portraits of naked corpses laying next to stable horses..
in a dim lit room, no clothes myself - to you like, "ain't it gorgeous?"
Isn't it magical? A perverse way of seeing a tragedy
as an upside of living amongst humanity, annually.
I'll make your Grandma knee down, then make her sit on her fanny, b.
Break her like a twig, then take out the rest of your family tree..
You understanding me? Eyes beat red..
I shit bullets and I eat lead.. Suffice to say, I keep fed.
Each thread... is just me, seeing MC's dead.
Shit's appalling. I'm your modern day Timothy Dalton...
figure you'll fault, and I'll be quick to diminish your cauldron...
with a written, assaulting ye, to you're beat into a submission, applauding..
Huh? Yeah, why would you be? Are you that stupid?
Oh wait. I forgot, you think A$ap Rocky's rap music.

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