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to upgrade it
I know through absolution and truth
That I’m saved by You and to You
I need to read and analyze that text
To prepare for what comes next
Even
You need people like me
You need people like me so you can point your fuckin' fingers
And say that's the bad guy
So, what that make you
You're not
get off the hook boy

When it comes to fornite, Your at the bottom of the list
Every bullet shot you missed, Mate you are getting badly dissed
You're
a beast

I'm just a stand-up guy
With a knickitty knack for rhymes
And the biggest of appetites
So please forgive if I snatch the mic
I
Kick it like sand in
with this lens

She said
Let me edit it
Where do I begin
Lets hope this works
Add some filler, I need more lips
Make it bigger, I need more hips
But I
shine

Not just through crime
Not just through grime
Sick of seeing us in the news headlines
I'm sick of seeing guys like us doing time
It don't sit right
to the side like my balls
The friends I'm leaving behind now are the guys that I thought were cool
In 2017 I set the bar too high, and I was sitting underneath
Baby
I'm Kaliko-ala, I like that pu-wah-wah
She let me do what I want to her, then I'm through with her
I never smooch with her, see I'm the gooch
It's that N-to-the-E-to-the-R-V-E
Chill-Chill, brother, I'm chill

They be like, "Nerve
Where the fuck you been?"
They know where the flow's been
that likes to objectify
but would you object if I
tried to explain why
some guys think its fine
and do it all the time 
I could criticise 
how we
it
But in the meantime, you might as well tell those silly jokes of yours
See if that helps

Bo, Bo, Bo, Bo
Bo, Bo, Bo, Bo
Bo, Bo, Bo, Bo
Bo,
turn it up, mash it up

We gonna party like
Party like, like it's the end of the world
We gonna party like, like it's 2012
You know that it doesn't
triggered
By Boku no Hero
So I see your style’s more Boku no Pico
Sit around with your keyboard
That’s covered in cheetos
I eat like it’s Food Wars
And you
a sit-down
Forget the studio and the mixdown
It's time to set it, you talkin loud without the credit
You clean like a radio edit
You couldn't tell that
So so fugazy. outta the way I’m gone back to my space like it’s 2008. 

This is a cook up. I’m bouta cook up. I got that water. I got that sauce.
put up
This ain't no damn push music
Or no hammish (?) music
This ain't party time it's army time
Ambush music
This that cripple fly, kill a guy
time we lost
That just how game's work
If we win then we need to keep it up
cnd learn from mistake

Playing games everyday & every time I could
cnalyse
Yeah, shambles as a rule
Tangled like chasing a train
But still look cool
Somehow still limp along
So fly that it feels like a strut
Like
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DOUBTIN' THOMAS
from THE PRAYER DRONE. by B.Slade

You own this

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50-something
But he acts 20-something reminds me
Of an old Mafia guy
Then there's Coach! The guy that
Likes guys you know
It had to be one of those but
He can
Let it take over
Make me a character
Let me be bolder
I live in the words 
Without any edits
And will not give up 
Even as credits
Roll
Even as credits
far?
The prodigal or prophetic?
I know perfection couldn't get it but my trauma has me feeling like I have to edit
Cutting corners like I'm tracing
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Flying
from Opal by lav火山

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it when she say I'm acting like I should go 
I wanna listen to my music 
Want it over over over the load 
Found myself on radio edit 
I'm making money

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