Fig
02-18-2013, 04:50 AM
I'm cold case filing bars
that got dropped for your reach, to then defile your arse....
...A null and void heart worn bare on my arm,
so the second a men ends, it's looking bad on my part.
Pogo with the logos on a path from the start,
I play to win but stay to eat those lone faggots apart.
Past reach; walking on stars, steps light up in a childish march.
Easily put a lad in a lamp just to rile jafar.
poppin' mockingbirds with furious fists when they emulate this...
The hardest author, call me Bruce Lee Harper.
Hearken to his wit emitting past the lips and the tartar
Penning enlightenment through flexes in washable stretch marker...
Part gentleman part ruffian fucking free; now that's chivalrous.
Cuz I'm all in cousin; hillbilly shit.
Ripsticking my way to fame running on volatile time,
Rhyme sliding side to side, call them maginot lines.
Ya'll whispin vaginal cries, I read lips as a passion of mine.
read the palm, it speaks back. Said I masturbate? Lies...
It's I, reigning in a clitoral cascade.
The V and the D, now that's a critical match made
In hades where I'm soon to rock and rule the school next.
Now get them floaties, and trace Jesus footsteps on the pool deck.
Catch me on the pulpit, wang in hand and yelling, ongaurd!
Till I find a trashy chick, that'll give me her cherry pop tart.
Sad rapper, fuck your feet, it's a struggle to get on hands and your knees.
Yeah that's a low blow, but so is what you're gearing to be
Starving week after week to make rear ends meet,
Cuz art's a double headed dildo; either way, your fucking gay
that got dropped for your reach, to then defile your arse....
...A null and void heart worn bare on my arm,
so the second a men ends, it's looking bad on my part.
Pogo with the logos on a path from the start,
I play to win but stay to eat those lone faggots apart.
Past reach; walking on stars, steps light up in a childish march.
Easily put a lad in a lamp just to rile jafar.
poppin' mockingbirds with furious fists when they emulate this...
The hardest author, call me Bruce Lee Harper.
Hearken to his wit emitting past the lips and the tartar
Penning enlightenment through flexes in washable stretch marker...
Part gentleman part ruffian fucking free; now that's chivalrous.
Cuz I'm all in cousin; hillbilly shit.
Ripsticking my way to fame running on volatile time,
Rhyme sliding side to side, call them maginot lines.
Ya'll whispin vaginal cries, I read lips as a passion of mine.
read the palm, it speaks back. Said I masturbate? Lies...
It's I, reigning in a clitoral cascade.
The V and the D, now that's a critical match made
In hades where I'm soon to rock and rule the school next.
Now get them floaties, and trace Jesus footsteps on the pool deck.
Catch me on the pulpit, wang in hand and yelling, ongaurd!
Till I find a trashy chick, that'll give me her cherry pop tart.
Sad rapper, fuck your feet, it's a struggle to get on hands and your knees.
Yeah that's a low blow, but so is what you're gearing to be
Starving week after week to make rear ends meet,
Cuz art's a double headed dildo; either way, your fucking gay