02-03-2013, 05:19 PM | #1 |
Senior Citizen
Join Date: Aug 1997
Posts: 3,871
Battle Record: 4-3
Rep Power: 0 |
Young Moe
aint tryina wait until They let us in
welcome back to the 5th a new way in the mold school its day 2, de ja vu, de la 2, with the slick minded, sick rhimin peice of shit simon grinnin when im winnin but still cool with when im losin cuz with each loss comes an option for growth rockin the boat on the mainstream float with popular quotes ive settled in, took my own mental jetison cuz we aint tryina wait until They let us in. and my head is pin- point sharp - used to abuse excederin, now my spirit is my medicine. so i run with the bulls its the funk and the soul the love and the hold on the glow of the sun thats exposed and when the dark clouds come for 8 days straight, i just stayed blazed, drop tracks, and keep shit hot like that. see we got evil and killin we got katrina and wilma folks deceivin and illin we here to free the civilians from the grind of life, rat race retiree, smilin, cuz now 9 to 5 in this fellow's life is the cue ball off the orange solid, into the yellow stripe |
02-03-2013, 05:19 PM | #2 |
Senior Citizen
Join Date: Aug 1997
Posts: 3,871
Battle Record: 4-3
Rep Power: 0 |
The Smokey Bar Trio
part 1 smokey bars...flow is godly as i roll this cigarette stroll memories lane bitter as old vinegarette been upset for the past 8 years... miseries favorite dinner guest/ since depression's upsettin i'm usually left to self regrettin all that i've let slip past my mitts that coulda helped/ dealt with issues that caused tissues to be used up in abundance and death is redundant funerals been done in bunches cousin/ an unlucky knucklehead... used to heartbreak now want love instead but love done said i'm not her type 'nother night in a loveless bed/ dust and dread plus somethin told me i was better off without my story's set in bars get up to send this letter off and pout/ the smoke rings lend mystery to my sillhoutte while i write this brim tipped over my eyes as my pen tip toes in silence/ and my solo act of defiance, is not tryin for better duke i sit & reminsce on lovin women that i never knew/ shed a few, deaded brews, set to lose my sanity sent to you as lettered proof this dude is used to tragedy/ 00 II. Another smokey bar YO shoot this scene in black and white...my life ain't had no light sacrafice and sufferin, enough to fill up half my nights/ dusty bars, luke warm drinks, smoke till i refuse to think sittin at this piano punchin keys untill the music sinks/ went drinking with Buddah, i'll be back at three and if i miss you at the champagne party have a glass for me/ it's a cinch still consider this my pin stripe suit song vintage licks my radio's a crip it's got the blues on/ sick of tricks and fickle fits of adolescent appathy straddlin the planks of fact and fiction till it's mad at me/ dramatics i'm over, lackin tact untill i sober up loner since they took me out my mothers gut and sewed her up/ drank too much, so hold me up untill i can regain order half way to a role model, call that zen with a hangover/ remain hopeless and find content in my pains opus can't get my brain focused & if it is i ain't noticed/ all my roomates are roaches, on my sofa smokin openly hocus pocus, nothin magical happens to broken me / yo kids this is the real side of show biz locusts and leaches one-year leases and no tips/ 0000 III. Last Call at the Dusty Bar head rested on this dusty bar is where you'll find me usually how you'll find me i don't know i'm not the man i used to be/ confucious dreams confusion deem my misery a human yet amusin schemes & futile means of movin towards the groove in step/ infused with death, but who's the best, truth is i'm a sunken wreck selected broken records and i'm just the dust that they collect/ neglected second sibling filling dull moments with pills and bud one woman man " bartender can you hurry here and fill her up"/ dirty tears and little luck, buildin pillars to fill the ruts this pillows tough, sleep eludes me, rudely so i'm still a nut/ whether or not i'm accepted;s not worth stressin the least bit one eye open starin at this empty glass givin it speeches/ my past riddled with streets, clicks and task drillin us meek kids at that militant teachins clasp we little delinquents/ and that's why I sing to you bitter sweet in harmony it's hard for me but that's hardly worth your apology/ |
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