Wednesday, October 27, 2010

word, hard.

these are words we write to right wrongs and plight. we word hard for the money and a touch of the sun's light. we twist caps and bust heads over and over to flood the faces of fools who act to cool for school, but need to be skooled. and i'm old skool kinda. i mean my sensibilities unwind with the rewinding of the minds of Sam Cooke soaking up songs like open books on praise to a days hard work. and i'm workin like preachers and church sermons to eradicate the vermin squirmin' the burnin' learnin's like life in light wasn't pertinent. my scribes penetrate the night to open up the obscure underneath trite tricks in lieu of the licks that skip a beat on downtown trips. i need the names of the languishing losers, lost in the lounge lapping up the sounds of sadness like a fiery shot of whiskey. like, the taste will let you touch the sluts more gently if even seen, if ever seen. green in the face with a graceful grin sinning like lending a hand with crossed fingers behind backs and blowing sweet kisses of nothingness in the wind waiting for the right, wrong type to pick up the drift hoping the hints of hate in your pheromones don't awaken or heighten their sensibilities and undermine your campaign. see these types trot the lots of lands lilly like, like not one of us could spot their spite, but i'm attuned to these attributes having been through the bluest of hues. see i've walked the streets in haste and heat hollerin' at hoochies with wet coochies spendin' chesse with no grief. my pleas line the beds of the undead, dear and departed from hard hearted half tones of lust, but i sing a different tune. i whistle with wonder, walk like a man even if i'm damned, damn it to hell with oh wells and wishes in wells and whimsical whims wasting away we. we write the words to disturb the order of chaos melting in our thoughts and counting in our talks like tic. we think out loud so often, you'd wanna shut us off, shyt, but we're here. here to voice our disgust and bust sick rhymes that come through with that ill to spill in real time. get reeled in and really feel what we're feelin' while we're spillin the illin that could pop policits and teach the chil'ens before callin' quits fully equipped to get rich like greener grasses on the other side of the fense.


No comments:

Post a Comment