Pressure point pocket
swollen wallet folding all of it
never here to call it quits
profits from a martyr bitch
starting quick no promises
but i will make dues take you "down" like a goose
rage unloose page my booth
what cant I do take model airplane glue
and maybe I just huff it
lacing it in onions
get fucked up and the taste is in my stomach
enough with the cushion room thoughts
before I end up with my end
flaunting death like it its the new trend
haunting steps hike the road of riches and sense
pictures through lens no contact though
dripping green blood through a compact hose
cash fills my throat and i puke pennies
nickels dimes quarters coinstar frenzy
point guard envy balling on a bitch
stalling not a bit with my telepathic rips
selling strips of land by the acre
damn its the paper makes me put off till later
the good or the greater understood the faker
was not me no way i be shaken
pencils tremor and then break with
so much force theres splinters in my apron
eat mastered text baked with the arts chased spit
mixed in is literal hope centrifugal dose
of the dizziest oath
of right and wrong when im writing songs
or lighting bongs however the paper bonds
but here i am as artist i bleed
im gonna keep writing until i starve or reach disease
and i will bark at these reads
and tell the reader to define
death sick sign of a "millimeter" line
silly teachers im just a higher "caliber"
try your algebra i will equal a pal cutter
that kills your closest or greater
exposing you haters
for frauds or imitators