Your debt to love gonna leave you laying in that blue blazer
one hit will knock you off that tight rope, bye bye Lou Bega
I roll on slight motivation & roast a bowl from another 2 acres
wood stove wouldn't catch flame if your rhymes were old newspaper...
pen catastrophes to alternate realities on a visionary conquest
all that & a can of beans for the bantering anywhere we progress
then we share concepts of vanity twisted in a wise rambling...
whats happening...worlds collide this is where the perfect reside
immersed in this pride with inertia in mind for a hermits reprise
reversing the time it took working this life into a twirling device
every uncertainty cries in what you perfectly pride & concern as a life...
your face observed in the light would make the likes of Ron Perlman cry
lost in the curvature of time through the portal of the murderous eye
the serpent is blind...squirting your sight & drifting in the milky way
you kill me, hey, this is a shit job for you when you live the filthy way
what the hill he say? I dont really give a funky piano
you the bitch tugging this wood for that touchy apple
the fuck you manual....brought to you by some guy on a blunt
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.....laugh....and the world laughs with you
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