You're Wrong

by **Just Silver** » Nov 21st, '09, 21:59

Deteriorate the decor of a roomier race
a groom with mace, the type that slashes the whole face
baskets with no innards, tragic accidents for no sinners
So winners, take the place of old dinner
leftovers get left over, write over i do it, till kingdom come i like HOVA
sprite ordered with a light dose o' imported, oh you feel shorted
fuck you your boring, so i keep on boarding, up my eardrums
i kick bass beats you could only hear once, I rip face of each of the cards from two up
To "hammered" to "screw" up, i "bolt" and im gone with a four on my arm that will put a "dot" on your man
size of japan, write me a rant, because i just dont listen i got a lisp im spittin every minute
and every other second record or a lesson your institution of my contraceptions
tis the booth to be jolly santas here ringing bells while its foggy
bringing hell to this hobby, shouldnt sell like solicitors
wouldnt help my embodied paragraphs and the scriptures of,
the word verbal pictures of, yes stay ridiculous best stay away from us
me and my members of thought, and "prison" dues
wait thats my "bars" im screwed like "screwball" i flew im higher than the moon
hey astronaut, mr armstrong think its all fake you're damn wrong
^ ^
(moon landing conspiracy)

(a little something trying get back to keystylin more often)