Put your fuckin hands down, I’m not here to save you. More to infiltrate and enslave you. My rhymes are American, my swagger is imperial. I got you in a choke hold - mental and material. The beat is funerial, the song is a dirge. I sing in procession with a bunch of rap nerds. In the cold distance hear the wild cats growl, four riders approach, the wind begins to howl. Record store’s a graveyard, zombies in the aisles. Tombstones created as the artists get filed. Sheeple in a deep sleep bleatin as the wolves creep, poison drippin from their teeth as crack in vials. Sippin on delirium, slippin into dream’s. My boat is raw power, but I’m gentle on the streams. The object of desire was the cause of despair cuz my head got turned now I’m stuck in derriere. Destiny’s a blind man, keeper of the books. The words seem to change every single time he looks. Rain water, fresh mud, sky gray haze. Took the day off just to sit back & gaze. Fill my lungs with deep breaths, clear away the concepts, the world’s been stopped. I meditate upon Death. Beautiful in black till the end of all days, she sweetly takes all. No such thing as early graves. Fillin up my cup I get an existential rush as I stand on the cusp of “who am I today?” Birds in the tree tops blissed out on sweet spots in the current currents. Pray for strength and endurance. Call me the seeker, been searchin low & high, but I’ll get what I’m after right now why die? Tryin to rely on you homie? That’s never. Plus I keep an eye on you in case you get clever. Clarity, Happiness, Peace, Love & Blow Jobs! Think I’m done, but I keep on comin back with mo gobs.