A god. The lost soul of a gospel
in pac mode under the grotto contemplating a colossal
Philosophy shift, a part of me sits in awe of the pitch
But offerings of glitz are hardly equipped to satisfy gods such as this
Yet as I walk to the cliff, my thoughts are a mix
If I lost any cents, then im lost in a sense and lost innocence
Materialistic, my spirit is lifted at the mere hint of riches
But how clear is my senses if considering eternal revere as the queer decison of bitches
But what is this
I recall the maming of hordes by ancient warlords with a sword forged from the core of a ore found deep in the ocean floor
Im Judge jury and executioner, lucifer with a ruger serving youth better excuses for drug usage through a blood infused sousaphone
no matter whos at home when the tunes is on then im moving songs
a few is wrong but to who its drawn will move along wheather ruse or psalm
Exhale reefer colored hookah smoke, using dope and losing hope as you promote a future soaked in dos and donts who's and wonts
Thats idiocracy at its finest, once the highest highness has reached a climate of violence, you'll find that noise shrouded in silence is still quiet
Reimagined greatness at the mountains apex, thought of the matrix and ate six
Stared over my land and embraced it, the decision is mine and i'll take it.
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