Zeros and Ones

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Destruction of the masses by disastrous frenzied bastards.

Leaking and manipulating the scheduled lives of the many classes caught in digital hazardous conditions they’ve had at us.

An intrepid hero who’s never been seen is trapped with their eyes in front of a screen and seamless transitions from visual scenes mean nothing and seem fuzzy, for only illusions could they be.

But a little thought settle not whether we’d know better.

Reality is money hungry and ruthless in its pursuit and as loud mice we must admit when the cat is too big and bury our heads in the granulated wall.

Back ally voices in expensive blue suits discuss paintings. Expensive art with a beating heart. A message for the loyal pets. Reprogramming, behavior must be modified. Feed it, get it on your side and change how it thinks. Even if it means one at a time.

They use the screen we hold.

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Political Opinions

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...we went along defending this
Because blue and red
Who the fuck needs thoughts in their head
When Luck is a good boy
And brought Chance to dance
Instead of Reason without a doubt
Because that’s a thug
We could do without
The crap we’re fed
Unbelievable shreds
Proofless evidence
But we follow
Whether or not it makes sense
Because we don’t like “them” or their opinions
Essentially the same nonsense we believe in
Another jackass leading us
Secretly the...

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The Good Guys

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...Slow this chit chat and shoot back!
Unless you want to be dead meats by a couple of deadbeats. ”

“White boy is right. Focus, man, fight back.” Tyrel says and squeezes the trigger
“Like that!”

Across the parking lot members of the opposing gang
Alongside the cops they were exchanging merchandise with
They’re closing in
Tyrel, Antwan and Jonathan retreat
They go from cover to cover
Car to car
Trying to make their way further
But the gunshots don’t stop
They formed a firing line
Thugs and cops
Afraid to be imprisoned for breaking the law.

Little crimes they’ve committed
Pastime they’ve never admitted
They go unforgiven
By those they’ve involved
Those unwilling...

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I Talk

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...replaying, when I open my mouth, like a cruel game, I’m told they came out a different way.

The fix is intention. Mention the apprehension of emotional criticism. Isn’t wisdom what’s been missing?

It’s pointless to question the echo on the other side of a mirror when ripples still reflects the sky. But I’m not surprised being it I have to explain why your death to others doesn’t mean you die.

The objective is what should have...

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Droppin' E

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... time to pretend, spring to my feet but don’t know where I’m headin’, regrettin’ all the pills raddlin’ my stomach ache, faces, fake masks, places, heads off, flight around the room, zoom, duck, zoom, FUCK! They laugh at me. Is this happenin’?

I grab a broom, “vroom” out the window and change the tunes, soon to arrive and maybe arrive alive and doomed, save a life a little...

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Wit Dick

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...stupid whore. Eyeballing you ball her eyes. Held up by her thighs, hair dangling all on the floor. It turns me on to watch you nail her to the door. I sneak in when you leave her bolted and bleeding, as if Jesus was a crucified woman who got raped whilst taking beatings. And I feed her my seed. She’s restrained. And she pleads.

I don’t write for you. I write for me, a real OG. Raised rich and white, skin darker than an African field worker at night. Ideas so bright even the shadows run away and out of sight. Privileged as fuck, while you struggle, and it’s alright.

Lines dirtier than smoke from falling...

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Wicked Christ

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...show him his mistakes
I want to see his face
When I put him in his place

Lightin’ up my wicked stash
Jesus puffs and then he passes
The last bit so I can have it

Grind that shit one more time
Turn it into powder, fine
Tune it so we’re higher
The goal’s to meet the father

Yeah I might be Satan
Bakin’ these pot cakes
When Marry missed the breaks
The dumb bitch crashed my place...

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Writing To Write

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...the gears go
Driving my eyes where it knows
Place riddle with prose and bad habits
Where brushstrokes sculpt stone rabbits into large planets

With the serum for the cerebellum
Fear him, he’s scary fella

I’m sick with the slick wit I spit quick
Slithering semantics, thick arithmetic and static

No clique
Word clip
Take aim
Take hit

And it splits the slit wrists
The words bleed out, they insist...

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Visceral Confusion

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...For their mental
Present flow
Nonpresidential
Oval office rental

Open for rent
Spent thinking of votes spent
Counting every garbage cent

Ascent, here stackin’ cash
Thinkin’ that it’s gonna to last
Suffering Succatash
Money movin’ kinda fast

War Money
Fight Money
Nuke Money
Die Money

No education
Survive funny
Die funny

Corporate America
Call the bitch Erika
Stare at her
Satirical miracle
Fear the hoe

Saints jump hoops to adopt and save, can’t breed
Monsters freely enslave their spread seeds
Feeding malicious habits
Enough money to have this
They’ll reproduce like rabbits
While mass...

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Completionist

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...Erase these
Fakers
Take these
Take hers

Think first
Reverse
This curse

Counting black
Saddled and back
To battle, and that
Paddle can’t handle
The peddle to the metal
With a rebel
It’s settled
Don’t meddle

Fiddle in the middle
Newer flow getting brittle

It’ll harden
And pardon
My word garden
Close, but far when
I start, then
I’ll smarten the coastal stow and stay
the stow away thoughts left to say
To play in the background
When the volume makes that sound
It fades to black how
Smart ass fat beats now
Do last but stand loud...

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To Know

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...Lies self-told as I got old to convince myself they’re worth their weight in gold
Bold tides collide and perspective modified
It clarified that the glow I saw, although still raw, was mine

It cleared, I have reasons to be here
A season of treason to convention and tradition
The condition of ascension
With no permission, on a mission
Dematerialized material vices
And I can’t recognize why I decided to be on the side I decided to be on
But I’ll capitalize on the capital size of this awareness.
It’s only fair when I stare this in the face...

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