Laying standards aside but not for pride
There is a rebel left on crates
Do dirt on that as a matter of fact
Call and ask where the little girl went
Come make class an issue on blast
Damage done in particulate patterns
Do it bigger she say, back ho digger
Made that name a pretty house
Running hands through strands
Backing up slowly with mirror balls in palsy
Not from this country but loving the entry
Soca make them move like mango strings sucked through teeth
Looking up and over that black revolver
There is a respect needed and begot
For every dream we release steam
Bigger than Africa in half the time
Thirsty and welcome everywhere we up-stare and pump sky
Friend of the room adding invisible numbers on skulls
All hemmed up then gemmed up with dumb luck
Shot on the block for cloth and old broom jumpers
Torn apart as the chart spiked heart cluster
The moment happens so quickly
It just goes like baby toes
Angry about mothers who silently wash stains
Sad about fathers with no time to bother with migraines
But this is the block and we hot nowadays
No martian territory each staircase a satellite
Only what is known and thrown from some fire escape
Pulled by the hair down to a reasonable level
No intrigue goes unpublished the sentiment still loveless
Outside of the culture we hawk on high plateau
Little ones now plotting pencils sharp and jotting
After the journey a revolving prism of godbody
Proud of the navigation and released from ostentation
Not of that strobe or flash we humble up quilted and piping
Pray on this she say with one hand on fish the other in clay
There is image to maintain and so we shoulder up and soldier
In the game like propane ready to set flame
Don't front there is rabbit on the loose
Just carry what you can and then be wary we post-coast tariff heavy
--
6.13.13
There is a rebel left on crates
Do dirt on that as a matter of fact
Call and ask where the little girl went
Come make class an issue on blast
Damage done in particulate patterns
Do it bigger she say, back ho digger
Made that name a pretty house
Running hands through strands
Backing up slowly with mirror balls in palsy
Not from this country but loving the entry
Soca make them move like mango strings sucked through teeth
Looking up and over that black revolver
There is a respect needed and begot
For every dream we release steam
Bigger than Africa in half the time
Thirsty and welcome everywhere we up-stare and pump sky
Friend of the room adding invisible numbers on skulls
All hemmed up then gemmed up with dumb luck
Shot on the block for cloth and old broom jumpers
Torn apart as the chart spiked heart cluster
The moment happens so quickly
It just goes like baby toes
Angry about mothers who silently wash stains
Sad about fathers with no time to bother with migraines
But this is the block and we hot nowadays
No martian territory each staircase a satellite
Only what is known and thrown from some fire escape
Pulled by the hair down to a reasonable level
No intrigue goes unpublished the sentiment still loveless
Outside of the culture we hawk on high plateau
Little ones now plotting pencils sharp and jotting
After the journey a revolving prism of godbody
Proud of the navigation and released from ostentation
Not of that strobe or flash we humble up quilted and piping
Pray on this she say with one hand on fish the other in clay
There is image to maintain and so we shoulder up and soldier
In the game like propane ready to set flame
Don't front there is rabbit on the loose
Just carry what you can and then be wary we post-coast tariff heavy
--
6.13.13
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