3pm

I ignite a fire to a bowl of Apple Jacks. Drive right inside the cold and grab a match. Having a glass of Snapple, I grapple with facsimiles. Like facts that are similar to me. Rap like a centipede., half pint of Listerine. Black out of history for trying get at every rhyme spit by me. Hock spit on milliseconds past. Get your shit together fast or never get cash. Having a blast, blacking on serial killing. I appear to be near to the feeling of beer in a synagogue. My influence and your mind don't get along. Rhinestone cinema, cowboys, listen up! How about I deploy my choice of enema to my enemies? When my trigger squeeze, hope y__ n______ bleed (fill it in). And feel it, indeed. Kill them for feeling, but not feeling me

Can you believe it? I just left 3 6 (look at the time). Been a minute, but I can and needed to. Beat a Beetlejuice, being booted with The Beatles. Blunts made of Euros, the root of evil, steaming. You can see a demon even when you're in prayer, living in mid-air. Dare superstition to get scared. Sit prepared, boldly stepping over boundaries nobody set. But get what you forget. And re-go over your ovary-collecting sound, baby-making music. Straight abusing the cumulative stupidness. Excuse me, miss? You better stop the screaming. Exorcise your demons, but let's try to be decent. No? Aight, bet. Mic check! The mic tight I ain't start getting hype yet. My guess? My words are too much to digest. So why don't I not stop and rest? Simple is the mission to riddle the intuition of children, building their credibility into their never-ability. Takes skill to stay still and straight, yeah. But I make them break deals when I make them say ____. I know. Grab a blanket, though. So old and gangsta with my ancient flow. You feel special because it seems scripted. But my cereal is finished and I didn't mean to break the bowl