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Not the PIGS
I am not a cop-
but I sure do viscous
-recollecting roll roads
-being superstitious
I do what I do every single day-
when I get up to my bed being made
Making some power out of my gravy
So sour,
the dreams I see engraved
The bad man walks with prowess...
The eager are dumped out of towers
So sour is the taste of being slit...
When my blood doesn't mix... does that enhance all your shit?
If time was a diss-
would life end with ecstasy and bliss?
If my mind was print-
would the papers have any of it?
I always ask, do you remember what you said?
I always possess, something that I know is only mine
I always do things that I know aren't that funny-
but do it because I need the symmetry
I've never won a fight but still possess the infinity
Dam that old man...
**** the kittens...
Dragging along linens
-Soaked up by millions
Sweat seems to pour when I rain
Jim heads seem to dance when I sing
My girl like's her signals when I dream...
So might the forest always be black
Might the rivers always be on track
May you always be young
And may I age old like rum
Seated and spun-
always hanging in on the runs
Getting home only after I've come-
to believe in the after life learning of my fun
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