yo,
the velvet curtains open n close like a puppet show
from a past life where prosperity is faint and nothing grows
loving slows to a hateful stop and adds weight
adds days to a long list of never ending bad days
i have faith only when the mic is held tightly
and rhymes are copyrighted in hopes no one will bite me
take it smooth like the wind n strike like a rock, its tai chi
most people cant bite my rhymes anyway, thur spicy
i torture people nicely, some people say its got flavor
but theres a difference between being a ass, and a hater
pimpologys my major, and i always get credit from tha ladies
spit my game so fuckn hard that it looks like i got rabies
smoked out hippie from the 80's put in the 21st century
tryn to liven up the rap game with my unused energy
most of its been wasted on tha drama of daily trouble
its like having ur life in ur hand and all the sudden it gets fumbled
all i do is mumble, nod my head and walk to dark ways
and grip my chest tightly to remove pain from my heart ache
facin my fate from the way the cards lay, i accept it
bear the mic with a mortal fist and do what i do... wreck it..

short keystyle at the end of 2 period... can wait till schools over with... thank the devil its friday..