and she's got this theory
about invisible nuclear spiders.
crawling into waste, and running down our arms.
she' s reliving our memories, shiiiiit, & making some up for us to relive,
and i talk too much, and my mumbled sentences. [are rarely heard correctly, i'll never repeat them for anyone, it'd defeat the purpose; slowing down my speech?, it needs to reflect my stream of consciousness]....
i think they call it ADHD with a speech impediment / yes!
i think i like gossip girls
i mean, i can stand gossip girls.
[only if she tells me what's going on]
3 gulps to go to sleep
2mg for me
i've lost touch with the scene, the industry.
side-stage, feeling out of place
i did this to myself.
i let go of my ???roots,???
rooted in LBC rappers poet/tree [poetry]
my wardrobe's not reflecting my soul,
just my passion,
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,
starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angel headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
im stealing lines again, ginsberg and cummings all over the screen.
while [blah] smells,
i can't sleep,
keep me company?
crawling into waste, and running down our arms.
she' s reliving our memories, shiiiiit, & making some up for us to relive,
and i talk too much, and my mumbled sentences. [are rarely heard correctly, i'll never repeat them for anyone, it'd defeat the purpose; slowing down my speech?, it needs to reflect my stream of consciousness]....
i think they call it ADHD with a speech impediment / yes!
i think i like gossip girls
i mean, i can stand gossip girls.
[only if she tells me what's going on]
3 gulps to go to sleep
2mg for me
i've lost touch with the scene, the industry.
side-stage, feeling out of place
i did this to myself.
i let go of my ???roots,???
rooted in LBC rappers poet/tree [poetry]
my wardrobe's not reflecting my soul,
just my passion,
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,
starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angel headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
im stealing lines again, ginsberg and cummings all over the screen.
while [blah] smells,
i can't sleep,
keep me company?