Not a Pipe (rough)

[DMS]

(Real talk. Real talk. Real talk ‘?’ Real ‘talk’? ‘Real’ talk? Real talk.)

Steal thoughts , I don’t care for it, livin’ on a mic?
It’s the cold truth and gold tooth, this is not a pipe.
Apostle? Know the fossil, mimic proper sight.

(Treacherous sand. The mirror which projects backwards?)

‘Yes’? ‘No’? The treachery of sound.
Legacy around a messy theatre clown’s best joke, let’s go.
The 12’s blow now? Sticks blown down? Drift on blocks of ice.

(The thing is the glass, stains imply meaning and worth)

Payment for papers, the purveyors of estranged.
Cut your mind to pieces, it will never be the same.
Recounting turns exalting for a picture book.
Alas, glimpses took a bid, a crimson jook.
Collectively learn to group think, the damn’s abode.
Who made the manner code? who sways the cam’ra phones?

(An idiots game, who know not the math’matics)

Lizards on a strike, half dazed, mimic proper lights.
Sustained men crack plays, living off a mic.
Apostles? Told the gospel, this is not a pipe.

[Wise Wiggles]

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