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young once ,
I Feel Like A Million Windows ,
maybe if I were offended ,
whatever thAt means (freestyle ft. Forest French in opening commentary) ,
Can't Wait 4 The 80's To Be Over Again ,
E X - N I H I L O ,
i rap my thoughts ,
freestyle jams, January 2017 ,
and 10 more .
, and , .
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lyrics
I can't live without the game, the rap game that I play,
the verse is like faucet, if it isn't flowing, then it must be dripping,
my life feels like I'm high on a whip-it and unzipping my beginnings
as to tie up all loose ends, new friends, a new family, and loose sands,
on a very wet beach with the Tao Te Ching preaching to no one in particular,
"this is what Lao Tzu says," presumably as he's chewing on a bamboo stem,
I'm not any tamer than zen with an x, but I'm cleaner than the Thames,
walking on dirty water til I cross that mare nostrum into Bethlehem,
can't begin until it's over and the rain evaporates my shame in the blinding light of a spring day,
when there's a negative assertion about working on the surface while rehearsing
all the wording I need straight and solid before I can weaponize it all for flirting,
circling my failures like a vulture posed as a savior of the culture,
burning out my rubber while straight choking on the sulfur (or the sulphites)
in my wine while I whine that I'm fine but the grind still grates me to brittle little
crime committer seeking acquital, and I'd like to say I'm centered but I think I'm only
stuck --- in the middle with you, bones, muscles and sinews, coming apart from the tissue
life's a story to be continued, in a grim mood, or a granular complacency,
I'm just swimming in the adjacent sea, the one that's rippling next to me
as I add a sign above the motel of my life that says, "sorry, there's no vacancy"
cus in desperation I chase my vocation refusing to capitulate to my basic vagrancy,
cus that's what all the people in my life with good jobs and mortgages preach that I need to succeed,
but indeed, I'm nothing, boner jam slam, forget my age, I'm twentysomething and I'm nudging
a curmudgeon to instill some optimism, or at least a sense of brahmanism while I drop all the lingo,
part of my abiding pioneer spirit must come cus I'm a quarter gringo, have you ever heard me sing tho?
if I put my songs on YouTube, I'd be joining a legion of Ed Sheerans, tis the season to watch re-runs
except I'm pouring over Chronicles of the Crusades, trying to learn each space in time
like I find sheet music in combing thru the decades, one by one, it's a campaign to capture the hills of the brain
with the flag of new knowledge, can't afford it but somehow I'm still in college, creating a collage of credit deficit,
student loan just the preface of a life full of debt death slavery, make me poor and all unsavory...
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