writer's block aftershock
Time's been had, the rifle's grabbed
Summed up in blog clogs
Like you want fries with that?
No time to battle, I'm writing disses on post-it's
Go from Joe Black to toe tagged
And snatch that one off your toe tip's
Like Ghostface said; A day to god is a thousand years
So if skill's defined from the hill's I climb
...then I can see my house from here!
Monotone dresscode, flesh torn ankles
No more testscores but two boots fresh for battle
Stress and hassle, slowly pressing handles
Bullets passing, blasting, cold hands gently cramping
Tears rolling over broken cheeks, home made bread
Longing for mothership, open lips, the hope is dead
Another two cold weeks with no sleep, tucked in slumber
Ye, replied by the same old; "it's the way the cookie crumbles"
Off the richter scale, the guiness page belongs in Sweden
..Another genius holding blood of phoenix
norman bates behemot
bubba fett alfred bello
arthur's detour azazello
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