Mag: Predicting

[sral]

Originally Posted by Vividlyvague

precipitous lines, I spit venomous. I'm
at my limit making a living, cuz I'm living to die.
We're all whittling, I'm loitering and littering mind.
My currencies are but the belittlements I scribble and scribe.
So I'm rich with a fix for the sick and divine.
I chuck bricks fulla scripts ta hit your glass crib fulla lies.
I stayed stuck in the middle and can't get rid of the ties
to low socioeconomic tenements where I'm spending my time.
I breathe a little bit, then spit out the fire, the devil's a liar.
He told me if I put my mind to it, then I'd live it, "But Sire!
I can't do this shit! All I can do is conspire
against the honest, then bomb them to fortify MY empire!"

that flows flamessssssssssssss